Old Habits
by jane0904
Summary: Next in the Mal/Freya 'verse. A job from Badger goes slightly wrong, an old friend from Mal's past turns up, and someone isn't quite who they seem. Multi-chapter. Read, review, enjoy! NOW COMPLETE but with more to come.
1. Chapter 1

"It never ceases to amaze me the way men are put together." Freya leaned on the fence and watched the fight in front of her.

"What do you mean?" Kaylee asked, wincing as one of the protagonists went face first into the dirt.

"Well, physically. I mean, all the important bits are on the outside."

Mal kicked the man on the ground, ensuring he stayed down.

"You mean –"

"Yeah. Take this lot, for instance." Freya pointed to Jayne who had just kneed a man in the groin. "Action like that, a man isn't likely to get up again any time soon."

"Isn't that the point?"

"Well, yes, but not to the man getting damaged. It just seems to be something of a vulnerable design, is all."

"Doesn't it say in the Bible that God made man in his own image?"

"So he couldn't have improved it a little? I mean, the way a man's made – physically put together. I mean, there's his most vulnerable bits, on the outside like I said, just aching to be hit, kicked, kneed – just doesn't seem to be a good design at all."

"Aren't you going to join in?" Kaylee asked as Hank got grabbed from behind.

"No. No, they seem to be doing fine as they are."

"You think?"

Hank kicked back and hit his assailant on the shin.

"See?"

"It still looks like someone's gonna get hurt," Kaylee insisted.

"Then you go on in. I'm sure you'd be able to help out. I'll hold your coat."

"Um, well, maybe they do seem to have it covered."

They watched in companionable silence while Mal punched his man deep in the belly, then slammed a double fist onto the back of his neck as he doubled over in pain. Jayne, meanwhile, had taken out one of his two, and now grabbed the other's head over his shoulder, heaving mightily to pull him over. His opponent sprawled in the dirt, winded and dazed. Hank threw all of his strength into a right hook, and his assailant dropped like a stone. None of them were going to get up again any time soon.

"You enjoy that?" Mal asked, rubbing his jaw as he looked at Freya.

"Well, some bits went by a bit fast. Can you do it again?"

"You really are a sadist, aren't you?" he asked, bending forward to retrieve his gun, and groaning slightly as he stood back up.

"Hey, not my fault Badger failed to mention the little matter of these guys not exactly being trustworthy when it comes to delivery."

"No, that's true," Mal conceded. "And don't think I'm not intending to have words with Badger about that very thing. But you could have helped."

"You didn't need it." Freya pushed off from the fence and walked over to him, stepping over one of the men on the ground. She lifted a hand and wiped a little blood away from the corner of his mouth. "You had them cold. And I would have stepped in if it looked at all like you didn't." She smiled. "Besides, I've been poorly."

"So you just watched."

"Wasn't just me. Kaylee was enjoying the spectacle too."

"Hey, don't drag me into this!" Kaylee protested. "I don't know how to fight."

"And I don't have any problems about that, _mei-mei_," Mal said, looking across at her. Then he turned back to Freya. "You, on the other hand …" His wife smiled wider and kissed him lightly on the cheek. "That doesn't make up for it."

"No? How about this?" She let her lips travel delicately across his, carefully avoiding the cut.

"Well, maybe," he conceded, somewhat grudgingly.

"Okay, now what?" she asked. "At least you've got a cargo now." She glanced at the boxes.

"Yeah, and an assortment of bruises." Mal pushed his jaw back into place. "You know, that's the last time we deal with that weasel."

"You say that every time."

"And I mean it every time." He stretched an ache out of his back where someone had managed to kick him. "Jayne, get the stuff on board. Hank, fire up Serenity. I wanna get this cargo outta my hull 'fore the week's end."

"Sure thing, Mal," the pilot said, hands resting on his knees. "No problem. Soon as I can get my heart started again." He managed to lever himself to a standing position. "Next time, Zoe can come. I volunteer to watch the boat."

---

"Sorry, Mal." Badger shook his head regretfully, but the look in his eyes was anything but regret. "Ain't got the cash at the moment."

Mal took a deep breath, visualising his hands around the little man's throat. "You employed us to get this stuff here. Which we did. All without coming into contact with any Alliance patrols, seeing as we're so close to the Core. As requested. Only your so-called delivery boys – who I was assured personally by you were to be trusted – tried to kill me and mine and make off with what wasn't rightfully theirs." He leaned forward. "So the way I see it, you got a choice. You pay us the rest of the money, or we find someone else to buy it, and keep the resulting coin."

A look of panic crossed Badger's face so fast Mal wasn't sure he hadn't imagined it, but there was certainly something in his voice as he spoke quickly. "Now, now, that ain't the attitude to have. I only meant I ain't got the cash _yet_. I'm waiting on liquidising some of my assets, so to speak, only it's takin' a bit longer than anticipated." He leaned back in his chair. "'Sides, that wasn't my fault, them turning on you. Probably just didn't like the look of your face."

"Badger –"

"And my client's gonna be pleased you managed to get 'is stuff through," the little man interrupted before Mal could really get into his into stride. "He's just a bit late getting here. Run into a little trouble, his man said."

"Just who are we dealing with here, Badger?" Mal hooked his thumbs into his gunbelt.

"That's kinda … confidential." Badger put his elbows on his desk. "It ain't that I don't trust ya, it's just … he don't exactly have a thing about people what fought in the war. Especially if they wore brown."

"Alliance?" Mal held back on the cursing just aching to spill past his lips. "You've got us working for a Fed now?"

"No, no." Badger waved his hands. "Not … really. He's retired. Just wanting to sit out on 'is porch and watch the scenery go by. If he had a porch," he added cryptically. "And I make sure he keeps supplied with what he needs to do it."

"Look, just wave him. Tell him we'll be making the delivery in person and collect -"

"He won't do that, Mal." The little man looked almost unhappy. "He won't deal with you. Doubt he'd do more'n take a coupla pot shots at you. The twerp really 'ates independents."

"Then we're at something of an impasse."

"Just sit tight. I can get the money to ya in a few days. All you need to do is make the delivery."

"How long, Badger?"

"Week. Maybe two. No more."

"Two weeks?" Mal had to hold very tightly onto his temper, feeling Jayne and Zoe tense behind him. At this rate there were going to be entrails. "That ain't good enough. I'm thinking my first idea was the best. And if you're lucky I might cut you in on any profits -"

"No!" Badger's voice raised voice called his men into the office, but he waved them back. "No, look, don't be doing anything stupid like that. A week. I can get something to ya in a week."

"Now you know I'm not gonna just give you the goods without payment on account of your trustworthy face, and I really don't want to be sitting here with possibly hot property that long." Mal shook his head. "There'd be nothing to stop the Alliance taking an unhealthy interest in my boat."

"Then …" Badger seemed to think for a moment. "How about another job? You could go, do that, then be back in time to get paid." He tried a smile. "Make it worth your while."

"Another job." He glanced at Zoe. "What kind of job?"

"Simple lift. Man I know of 'as a safe, and inside that safe is something someone wants. The man is 'olding a party this weekend, and I managed to finagle a coupla tickets."

"Do you recall the last time you arranged a meet at a party?" Mal asked, feeling again the phantom twinge in his side. "You took most of my crew hostage. And I got stabbed."

"That weren't my fault. If you 'adn't been so free with your fists, it woulda gone smooth as caramel."

"Be that as it may, I'm not sure -"

"Be easy. In, out, and nobody any the wiser."

Mal looked at the little man, his gaze steady. "Well, I suppose I could get out my best suit and -"

Badger held up his hand. "No offence, Mal, but you ain't the type's gonna be let in. This is a high class do. Freya, now that might work. But you? Nah."

Serenity's captain took a deep breath, holding it as long as he could. Eventually he exhaled. "We can sort something out."

"Good." Badger clapped his hands, feeling back in control of the conversation. "The party's on Claymore. Know where that is?"

Mal looked at Zoe, who said, "It's a small private moon about three days travel from here. If I recall correctly it's a luxury spa. Very exclusive, very discreet."

"That it is. The party's for potential investors, but Freya should be able to blend." Badger looked her up and down. "You know, you might be able to snick in, too. They like women." He reached into the drawer of his desk, very carefully, more than aware Jayne still had his hand on his gun, and pulled out two gold-edged, deeply engraved cards. "The safe's a Methuselah, in the private sitting room."

"What are we taking?" Mal asked.

"A carved wooden box. Got a picture of an angel on it, apparently. But don't bother trying to open it. Got some fancy lock on it too. Just get it and bring it back to me." He leaned forward. "Course, if there's any other pretties inside the safe, I might just be willing to take 'em off your 'ands for ya."

"We'll bear that in mind." He flicked the two invitations from Badger's fingers. "Usual rates?"

"Usual."

"And are you actually gonna be able to pay us when we get back? 'Cause if this is a wild goose chase, or you try and gyp us, I'm promising right now that I'll find some way to nail your hide to the wall."

"Now, that ain't nice. Considering I'm doing you a favour. Sides, by the time you get back Kendrick will've arrived and -"

"What?" Mal's head lifted and he took a half pace forward.

"I just said my client'll 'ave arrived by then and –"

"No. You said his name."

Badger considered. "Don't think I did."

"Kendrick."

"No, now, look, I know I didn't. So either you're getting psychic in your old age or –"

"Anton Kendrick?" Zoe said, her whole body tensing. "Is that the client?"

"I didn't say that!" Badger was getting about as panicked as he ever did. "And you ain't to, neither."

Mal's trigger finger itched. Not to kill. No, not that. Just maybe maim a little, just so the little weasel'd tell the truth for once. He wished Freya were with him: maybe she could just pick it out of his brain. Painfully. "Badger, I ain't gonna ask again. Is your client Anton Kendrick?"

Badger's eyes flitted to the door, then either side, as if he expected someone to come bursting in any second, guns blazing. Finally he said quietly, "Yeah. But I didn't tell you."

"Who?" Jayne's brow was furrowed.

"Is he here?" Mal asked, ignoring the ex-mercenary. "On Persephone?"

"No." Badger still looked unhappy. "He's coming in soon, though. In a week's time. He'll expect his goods to be here."

"I want to do the delivery myself."

"No. Told you, he ain't keen on people what still wear brown."

"Badger -"

"You can threaten me all you like. And I'd just like to remind you where you're standing. This is _my_ gaffe, _my_ place. You don't get to tell me what to do." The panic had gone, replaced by a growing anger. "I've given you a job. You'd better get out and do it." He stood up, adjusting the front of his jacket. "You remember who you're working for, 'cause it ain't the other way around."

Mal took a breath, forcing a more genial look to his face. "You're right. We're just the hired help around here." He turned on his heel and walked out. "One week, Badger."

Zoe and Jayne followed, the latter almost consumed with curiosity. "Who's this Kendrick?" he asked as they pushed through the crowds back towards Serenity.

"Someone the captain knew once," Zoe said, seeing Mal wasn't about to answer.

"I figured that much. He do something to you I don't know about?"

"Not to me."

"Zoe, that ain't –"

"It's as much as you're gonna get."

"We've got a job to do," Mal finally said. "And I'd be grateful if you'd not mention Kendrick to anyone."

"I don't even know who the hell he is!" Jayne grumbled.

"Better it stays that way."

---

"A Methuselah?" Kaylee looked aghast. "You sure you heard right? The safe is a Methuselah?"

"That's what Badger said," Zoe confirmed. "Is that a problem?"

The young mechanic shook her head. "A problem?" She laughed. "No, no problem." She got up from the dining table and started to pace.

The adult members of the crew watched her curiously.

"I'm taking it this ain't gonna be as easy as Badger made it sound," Mal said. He'd managed to calm down somewhat, and had pushed all thoughts of Kendrick back behind one of the locked doors in his mind. Freya had asked him what was wrong, but he'd just smiled and kissed her cheek, hoping she'd trust him enough not to peek.

"Easy. Easy." Kaylee stopped and looked at him. "Cap, the words 'easy' and 'Methuselah' don't usually go in the same sentence."

"That bad?"

"Worse. The Methuselah's brand new. Only a few of 'em have made it outside the Core so far, from what I've read. It's got a multi-combination code key, as well as a bio-metric recognition system that shuts everything down with titanium bolts if you make even one mistake. That's apart from the high voltage that would surge through anyone trying to get in, and … Cap, this just ain't possible."

"Then we take the whole thing with us."

"It's built in. There's no way, short of dynamiting the place, to get it out."

"Dynamite?" Jayne sat up.

"Not during a party," River said firmly. "Can I go?"

"Not sure any of us are going if Kaylee's right." Mal sat back in his chair. "It's really that bad?"

"Well, I can probably disable the voltage, rig something to run through the codes, but … "

"It's the other thing? The bio-whatsit?"

"Bio-metric. It reads and recognises the person inputting the code, and without the telemetry behind it, I …" She sighed and flopped back into her seat. "I think we should go see Magpie."

The look on Mal's face would have been comical if not for … actually, no, it _was_ comical. "No, now, wait there a minute, little Kaylee. You know how she feels about me."

"You're happy enough dealing with Patience," the young mechanic pointed out.

"Yeah, but she only tries to shoot me. Not … that."

"Is there something I need to know about?" Freya asked, looking from one to the other up and down the table.

"No, no, nothing." Mal held up his hand. "Absolutely and irretrievably nothing."

"Then why –"

"She tries to seduce him," Kaylee explained, then looked at her husband as he snorted coffee up his nose. "You okay, honey?"

"She does what?" Freya leaned forward, needing clarification.

"Every time. It's real sad."

"Sad? How?"

"To see the Cap'n back away from her." She giggled. "Ain't never seen the man so afraid of anything."

"Kaylee, I'm sitting right here!" Mal was equally affronted and appalled.

"Is this why you've never taken me to meet her?" Freya asked, turning dark and unreadable eyes on him.

"Now, Frey, it ain't like that."

"Then why don't you tell me what it _is_ like, and I'll decide whether you're going to spend the next few nights on the couch or not."

Mal knew full well it wasn't just Magpie behind this threat, even as he knew the threat itself wasn't empty.

Jayne rumbled a laugh until River elbowed him in the side, but he didn't stop the grin.

"It's okay," Kaylee put in quickly. "The Magpie never gets nowhere. Cap runs too fast."

"Kaylee!"


	2. Chapter 2

The Magpie's shop sat on the edge of polite Persephone society, in a street where the rest of the establishments catered to the more fleshy of personal pursuits. Nestled in between _Madam Lau Cheng's Palace of Mystery_, and _Carmichael's Cat House_, the more sedate sign declared it to be _Maguire Repairs_. Not that it stopped drunken potential patrons staggering in, dropping their pants and asking with a leer whether she could repair _this_. After a dozen or so had been taken to the nearest hospital with very private injuries, a second sign was added, beneath the first, stating 'This is not a working girl concern'. It didn't stop all the intrusions, but Magpie finally managed to learn restraint.

"Magpie inherited it from her father, and he from his. They were here long 'fore the others," Kaylee said gaily as they walked up the street. "She's a genius when it comes to electronics. Kinda like me, 'cept I'm more with engines."

Jayne glanced at the women hanging out of the top windows of _Schmidt's Emporium_, and even more out of the dresses they had obviously barely managed to get into in the first place. He swallowed hard. Several of them were calling him by name, and he could feel River sniggering in his mind.

_Maybe I should have come with you,_ he heard. _Kept you out of temptation's way._

_Aw, Riv, you know I ain't interested. But I can't help it if they recognise me. I ain't exactly easy to miss._

_Perhaps you should have gone in disguise. I imagine you kept several of these places in business._

He squirmed mentally. _Moonbrain …_

_Yes?_

He was saved from having to beg her to stop by Kaylee opening the door to the shop. "Here we are."

"Lovely neighbourhood," Freya commented, having to push Mal slightly so he'd follow his mechanic. "I'm sure your friend feels right at home."

Mal gave her a withering look but forbore to respond. Instead he strode after Kaylee inside.

"You shouldn't wind him up so much," Zoe murmured.

Freya raised an eyebrow. "Why not?"

"He _is_ the captain."

"Can we not do this in the street?" Jayne asked, looking around a little nervously, ushering them into the dimly lit interior.

"I'm presuming that isn't her," Freya said softly as she stopped next to Mal, her eyes adjusting quickly to the gloom so she could see a somewhat elderly man sitting behind the counter reading a flexi-newsheet.

"You gonna keep this up all day?" Mal glared at her. "Only I'd kinda like to know so I can clear my schedule."

"Probably."

"Fine." Mal's lips tightened and he turned away. "Stoogie, how's business?"

The old man looked up, rolled his tongue around his teeth then spat, luckily with considerable accuracy, into a brass jug on the floor. "Terrible poor," he said, shaking his head. "Hard for an honest man to make a living nowadays."

"Ain't that the truth. Magpie in?"

Stoogie gestured over his shoulder. "She's waiting for ya."

Kaylee leaned into Freya. "Mags' got little spy cameras all over the place," she explained. "Prob'ly saw us coming from a coupl'a blocks away."

"Really." Freya looked around the shop, at the intense clutter, the source boxes with their innards spilling out, clocks that would never chime again, com systems so old they wouldn't even fit Serenity … "Why?" she asked. "What's she afraid of?"

"Not afraid," said a female voice as Mal opened the door to the inner sanctum. "But I'm not crazy either."

Freya glanced at Zoe and followed her husband. The first thing she saw was a long black coat hanging on a rack fixed to the wall, reminding her inexorably of a raven's wings. Then there was the perfume. Gardenia, unless she was much mistaken, something her mother used to wear. A little further in and she could see the room, tastefully decorated in old, but good quality furniture. And finally Magpie herself, standing in the dead centre of a carpet that looked to be the finest Osiran, her hands clasped in front of her, a wide smile on her face.

"Mal!" she said, stepping forward.

"Magpie." He didn't back up, as much as he wanted to, even when she planted a kiss on his cheek and took his arm. This young woman unnerved him somewhat. Nowhere near as bad as Kaylee had made out, but enough that her adoration was deeply unsettling.

Freya felt her lips twitch at his discomfort, then turned her attention to the woman holding onto him with something like proprietorial ownership.

About Kaylee's height, she was dressed in what appeared to be a frock coat with the sleeves removed, over a white t-shirt and tight black pants tucked into knee-high black boots. Her hair was also black, cut into a glossy crop that came to points in front of her ears. Spidery black tattoos showed at the edges of her cuffs and around her neck, and her eyes were outlined in thick mascara, both accentuating and enhancing, but it was the metalwork that truly grabbed the attention. Each ear was pierced with a multitude of rings from the lobe up the outer edge, and both her eyebrows sported spikes. Her fingers were covered in silver jewellery, including three articulated rings that would have done sterling work as knuckle-dusters. The only touch of colour on her person was a pair of bright scarlet lips. Oh, and the same colour nails on hands that were even now clasped around Mal's arm.

"You set off metal detectors?" Freya asked before she could stop herself.

"I have been known to." The young woman looked up into Mal's face. "Mal, I've got a new piercing," she said quietly, ignoring Freya. "Wanna see?"

"Um, not right now, no." Mal tried a smile. "Magpie, this is Freya. My wife."

Margaret Madeleine Maguire turned to see the tall woman who had accompanied her friends looking at her with a speculative eye. "Wife?" she asked.

"Yep. Remember? I told you about her. Several times over the last few years or so. In fact, every time I've come in here."

"Have you? I don't seem to recall –"

"Magpie."

"Oh, all right. Yes." She disengaged her hands. "Mrs Reynolds. How nice to meet you. Finally."

"Magpie." Freya let her gaze roam up and down the young woman. "Which came first?" she asked at last.

"First?"

"The distinctive colouration or the nickname?"

"Frey," Kaylee hissed. "You don't ask!"

"Why not?"

"It's … it ain't done."

Freya raised one eyebrow. "You mean it's just a happy coincidence?"

"She'll get … tetchy."

"Wouldn't want that, now, would we?" Freya said, rather too nicely for the crew of Serenity. They knew what that tended to mean.

"Magpie here is gonna help us with our little problem, ain't you?" Mal put in quickly.

"Problem?" Magpie's ears metaphorically pricked up. "What kind of a problem?"

Kaylee stepped forward. "A Methuselah."

The gleam in her eyes rivalled the reflections off her metalwork. "You mean -"

"Uh huh."

"And you need my assistance."

"Need to get something out of one, yeah."

Magpie smiled. "I think I might be able to help you." She reached out for Mal's arm, but dropped her hand before it touched. "This way," she said, crossing the room to the far corner, moving a curtain to one side to reveal a door set flush into the wall. "This is where the real business gets done," she added. "The rest is all for show. And pin money."

---

River smiled down at Caleb in his carry cot, his little arms waving in the air, then turned back to the Cortex. Mal had asked her to check out Claymore, and the party they were going to rob. So far she'd waded through pages of fluff, designed to make her desperately want a massage or a heat-therapy hot air jacuzzi, when all she was actually feeling was slightly sickened from the saccharin overload. If the pneumatically-endowed woman on the screen smiled in such a patronising way once more, she was going to put her fist through the centre of her face, and apologise to Mal later.

"Not sure about sending two women in," her captain had said, adding quickly, "And I'd take it as a kindness if you didn't say what's on the tip of your tongue."

She'd raised her eyebrows. "What could I possibly say?"

"That I'm a relic, a dinosaur, if I think they can't take care of themselves."

"Did I mention extinct reptiles?"

"You were about to. And I'd just feel better if we could con 'em to let one of us in with them. Maybe Hank. He can sound Core-bred if he tried."

"Simon could –"

"Simon ain't even stepping off the ship. There's like to be Alliance supporters at this shindig, if not Feds, and I'm not putting him or you in harm's way. So don't even go trying to suggest that either, albatross."

She'd stuck her tongue out at him and flounced away, hearing his laughter behind her.

Caleb gurgled and brought her back to the present. Reaching down, she lifted him into her arms, opening the front of her dress so she could feed him. As much as it surprised her, breast-feeding her son had a calming effect on her, although it seemed to have the opposite result with Jayne. Smiling at the memories of the previous night, and feeling Caleb start to suckle, she turned back to the Cortex.

Ah. Finally.

_The Spa will be holding its annual charity fund-raising gala this weekend. Our especially invited guests will be able to sample all of our many delightful facilities, with all proceeds from the gaming tables going towards the Alliance Benevolence Fund, set up to give aid to those families who find themselves in need. In addition we will –_

River stopped the screen, and went back. Oh dear.

"River, you know when Mal's …Oh, hey, sorry." Hank turned in the doorway to face the kitchen. "Didn't know you were in here doing … that."

"I'm feeding Caleb."

"I know. Not that I saw anything. 'Cause I didn't." He sounded anxious that she'd believe him.

"You're as bad as the Captain," River sighed, doing up her dress and rocking her son gently. "When he walked in on us the other day. I didn't think he could go so red. You know, it's perfectly natural. And I'm not ashamed of my body." She looked at the pilot, who was almost jigging from foot to foot. "I'm decent, by the way."

"I know. I didn't say you wasn't –"

"I mean, I'm dressed."

"Oh." He turned around. "Sorry." He grinned, a little shamefacedly. "Just wanted to tell Mal we're all fuelled up and ready to go."

"He'll be back soon."

"Good." Hank stepped forward and looked at the screen. "So, do you think they're gonna let me in?"

River turned dark and luminous eyes on him.

---

Magpie's inner _inner_ sanctum was below street level, down a steep flight of stairs. The cellar was sheathed on all six sides with a thick layer of lead and steel, shot through with anti-surveillance wires, and she smiled as she led the way through a high-tech security door. "Don't want anyone looking in, do I?"

Kaylee glanced up at Zoe. "You get the feeling Hank'd never make it this far?"

"With the way his claustrophobia's been playing up? I doubt he would."

"Still, it's all in a good …" She came to a dead stop in the doorway, Zoe running into her from behind.

"What is it?"

"Wow."

Inside was just about every illegal gadget any of them had ever heard of, and then some, but what grabbed everyone's attention was the furthest wall, taken up by a huge screen showing a slowly changing starfield.

"That is so shiny. It looks real, don't it?" Kaylee stage-whispered, her eyes wide.

"It is," Magpie replied unexpectedly. "I'm picking up a feed off a satellite about thirty thousand klicks out. She turns sometimes, so I can get a view of Persephone, but that's too pretty. Not like the real thing. I like this."

"Still not got over that obsession yet?" Mal asked gently.

"It's been twenty years, Mal." She grinned. "I don't think I'm going to, do you?"

"Guess not."

"And I'm still waiting for you to make good on that promise, and take me out there."

"Nothing to stop you, Mags. Plenty of ships willing to take on a passenger."

"But I want you to take me."

"Maybe one day."

"Why not today?"

Freya crossed her arms, very deliberately, and Kaylee began to squirm a little.

"Hey, is this an Interceptor?" Jayne interrupted, picking up a small hand gun.

"That it is," Magpie said, grinning at him. "Got it in lieu of payment just last week."

"How much d'ya want for it?"

"You do not need another gun," Mal said firmly.

"It's an Interceptor, Mal." Jayne held it up, sighting along its length. "Fires gas-propelled rounds, accuracy to within –"

"And how much do those rounds go for?"

"Well, they ain't cheap. But –"

"No buts. Anyway, you've got Vera. You persuade Magpie to part with this other gun, she's gonna get jealous."

Jayne gave him a withering look. "She's just a gun, Mal."

"I'll remember you said that next time one of us needs to borrow her."

"I think that's why the man who owned it previous to me didn't mind handing her over," Magpie said with a laugh. "You stick with your Vera and Betsey and all the others. I wouldn't want to hear you'd been killed because you ran out of some fancy bullets." She looked up into Mal's face. "Any of you."

Freya had had enough. "Can you put him down, please?" she said, her voice a perfect example of pleasantness. "He's not yours."

Kaylee glanced at Zoe.

"Not mine?" Magpie raised one steel-pinned eyebrow. "I don't see a sign."

"Then maybe you need to look harder." Freya nodded down towards the wedding band on Mal's finger. "I think that makes it plain as day, don't you?"

Magpie let go of Mal and stepped forward. "I've heard all about you," she said, crossing her arms.

"Really."

"Mmn. Dillon's mentioned you. In passing."

"Would that be Dillon Malfrey?"

"It would. He and my father were old friends."

"Really."

"Is that all you can say? Really?"

"No. It's not."

"Prove it."

"How about … hands off my husband?"

"I don't see him complaining."

"He doesn't have to. And you shouldn't be chasing a married man."

"Nor do I see him running away."

Magpie and Freya squared up to each other.

"Think there's gonna be a fight?" Jayne asked.

Zoe eyed the captain warily. "Hope not."

"Maybe I should let Simon know to have the infirmary ready."

"Might not be a bad idea."

"My money's on Frey."

"I don't know. Magpie's younger …"

Jayne stared at her. "You got a death wish or something?"

Kaylee, however, wasn't having any of this. She pushed in between the two women, her hands on her hips. "Stop it! Both of you!" she said firmly. "There ain't gonna be no bloodshed here." She glared at Magpie. "You know the Cap's married. He's always told you. And he ain't never encouraged you, 'n' you know it."

"Kaylee, I –"

"No! You don't say a word! 'N' you know damn well if the Cap did take you up on your offer, you'd be the first one to spit in his eye."

Magpie looked suitably chastened. "Sorry, Kaylee."

The young mechanic turned to look at Freya. "And you. You know this is just a game, so no need to get so knotted up about it. You're just feeling 'ornery because … well, because." She wasn't about to tell Magpie that Freya was a Reader, only her abilities were somewhat dulled since catching the measles. Not that she didn't trust her, but it was one less person to worry about. She turned on Mal. "And you oughtta be ashamed of yourself, letting the situation go on like it has."

"Me?"

"You. Not telling Freya, letting her find out like this."

"You were the one told her!"

"And I shouldn't'a had to. Married couples don't keep secrets. Well, not like that."

Mal was about to argue, then saw the look on Freya's face. "No, well, maybe I shouldn't've."

Kaylee nodded. "Good. Now, can we get down to business?"

Magpie smiled. "I always did like you, Kaylee," she said.

"Yeah, well …" Kaylee blushed. "The Methuselah?"

Magpie rubbed her hands together. "You know, I think I have just the thing." She turned to a long workbench against the wall. "So who put you in the way of this job?" she asked, rummaging around in a box of parts. "'Cause I'm thinking you maybe need to have another word or two with him."

"Badger," Mal admitted.

She turned to stare at him, then at Freya. "You say you love the guy and you let him?"

Mal sighed. "Yes, okay. I was maybe a little insane at the time. But we need the work. And the cash. Can't keep Serenity in the air without the cash, and we're getting a little low on it right now."

"But Badger? That man'd sell his own mother for a handful of credits."

"Magpie, I _know_."

"But Mal … Badger?"

"Magpie, if you don't stop with the eyes and the voice, I'm going to put you across my knee and spank you," Mal warned.

She brightened up. "Is that a promise?"

Freya cleared her throat, and Magpie quickly turned back to her boxes. "It's in here somewhere …" she murmured, keeping her head down.

---

Business concluded – finally – Serenity's crew stepped back outside.

"Should work, Cap," Kaylee said, clutching a parcel to her chest. "And with the other gear I can rig up, should be no problem."

"It's pretty big," Zoe commented.

"You'll just have to carry a big purse," Mal said. "Come on, better be getting back. We've got some planning to figure out."

"Yes sir, Cap'n." Kaylee grinned at him, then looped her arm through Jayne's and started back down the street.

Mal went to follow but Zoe stopped him with a touch of her hand.

"What?"

She waited until the others were a few yards ahead. "Kendrick, sir," she said softly.

Mal's face hardened. "Ain't looking to talk on that subject, Zoe. You know that."

"I do. And I understand why. But Freya's not going to be so considerate if she finds out and you haven't told her."

"It was a long time ago."

"And that's why you jumped at his name, sir?"

"I didn't jump. It was just … not heard it in a while."

Zoe stepped closer. "You want to take my advice? From someone who knows and respects you? Who loves you as a friend?" She almost smiled at the shocked look in his eyes. "Tell her. It'll go badly if you don't."

"You trying to tell me how to handle my marriage? Something I ain't asked you for?"

"No, sir. Just letting you know how it is." Zoe turned and followed the others, leaving Mal to glare after her.


	3. Chapter 3

'_Welcome to all our friends! We at The Spa know that inside you will find everything you could dream of, and if our imagination is lacking, do please ask and it shall be yours!'_

-

Hank brought the shuttle in to land at the small port, nestling it cheek by jowl with the other vehicles already parked, most of which could have bought Serenity a dozen times over. The latest two seater runabouts were probably the most vulgar, but there were plenty of older, well-looked after craft, and the pilot hoped they'd get lost in the crowd.

"We're down," he called over his shoulder, shutting everything down.

Mal looked at the two women in front of him. "You good to go?"

Zoe nodded. "That we are."

"I guess." Freya was checking through her bag once more.

"Frey, you've got everything," Mal said quietly, smiling at her.

"I don't know. I just get the feeling I'm missing something."

"Your guns," Hank put in, coming through from the small bridge.

"Probably. I feel naked without them," she admitted, running one hand down her hip.

"Well, Zoe is your bodyguard, so she can go armed instead." Mal took the bag and handed it to his first mate, knowing she was wearing his wife's shoulder holster under her jacket. "You know what you've got to do. Soon as you can, let me know you're inside. We'll be listening."

"Yes sir."

"Bring me back a bottle or something," Hank said, sounding a lot more relaxed than he felt.

"Any particular vintage?" Zoe asked.

"Whatever you think will suit my fine tastebuds."

"Beer, then."

"Hey, I'll have you know I've drunk some of the finest champagne known to man!" He grinned. "Well, for under ten credits, anyway."

"That much."

Mal knew they were bantering because of the tension in the small shuttle, a stress that had grown since they left Persephone. He felt it himself, an ache in the pit of his belly like something bad was about to happen. "Well, as much as I myself would like to hear about Hank's adventures with alcohol, it's show time." He crossed to the shuttle door. "Ready?"

Freya took a deep breath, using all her control to cleanse her mind. Her shoulders settled, and her face took on a superior look with just a slight raise of one eyebrow. "Ready."

Mal smiled. She was damn good at this, and he felt so proud of her. "Shiny." He opened the door, sliding it back into its recess.

"Sir?" A flunkey in a purple and gold suit was outside, already waiting. "Do you have an invitation?"

"Not me, son, but my employer does." He handed over the two invitations, duly completed in River's very best copperplate handwriting.

"If you would wait just a moment …" The flunkey turned to his companion, similarly attired, who took the cards and ran them through a handheld scanner. For a moment Mal wondered if Badger had tried to palm off a couple of fakes onto him, and had visions of having to fight their way out through a sea of purple and gold. It didn't help hearing Freya snort with unladylike laughter behind him. Then the flunkey turned back, a veneer of obsequiousness overlaying the slightly superior air. "Sir. If Madam Romanov would care to accompany us, we will deliver her and her servant to the main house." He indicated a spacious groundcar waiting a few paces off.

Mal gave a tightly controlled smile and turned back inside, thanking all the gods he could think of for having a treasure like Kaylee back on board. With only a little help from River, she'd hacked The Spa's systems, making sure Freya's alias was on the list. "Madam," he said, holding out a hand.

Freya took it, letting her eyes linger on his only for a moment, then sliding past to the men outside. "Thank you, Reynolds," she said, stepping out into the warm evening air.

_You're enjoying this just a shade too much_, Mal thought firmly.

_Wasn't I supposed to?_ She didn't look back as the flunkey assisted her to the ground.

"Madam, if you would step this way?"

She nodded her head in gracious acceptance.

Zoe went to pass Mal, but he whispered, "_Mian mian ju dao_."

"I will, sir," she breathed back, following Freya out to the waiting groundcar.

"Damn, she's good," Hank breathed, watching as the sleek vehicle took their respective wives towards the blur of buildings.

"That she is," Mal agreed.

"I still wish I was going in with them."

"And have Zoe kill you if you even looked at those gaming tables?" Mal shook his head. "Can't be finding me a new pilot at this late stage."

"I know." Hank sighed and sat down on the bench against the wall. "It's hard, Mal."

"Which? This addiction of yours, or knowing your wife is heading into unknown territory?" He dropped onto the opposite seat, feeling the need to be accompanying Freya as keenly as Hank.

"Both. But I was actually thinking of the gambling." He glanced over his shoulder, just able to see the lights blazing around The Spa. "Just knowing it's there, not more'n a short walk away … it's hard."

"You want I should tie you down? Hit you with something? 'Cause all you gotta do is ask."

Hank managed a smile. "No. But thanks for the offer. About the fifth I've had this week from various of my 'friends' but I do appreciate it."

Mal settled back. "I conjure one of 'em was Jayne, and another Zoe, but who were the other two?"

"Oddly enough Zoe wasn't considering doing me grievous bodily harm. At least, not recently. No, it was Kaylee and River. The former said she'd be more than happy to hit me with a wrench, and our little psychic assassin twice offered to burn out that part of my brain I use to gamble with." He shuddered slightly. "Can she do that?"

"I don't think you want to find out."

"No."

Mal had to suppress a smile at the look on Hank's face. "So Freya didn't say anything?"

"No. She doesn't need to threaten me. And Zoe was telling me how she got all uptight over Magpie."

"You think those two things are related?"

"I don't think _you_ want to find out, either."

Mal shook his head, looking out into the rapidly descending darkness. "Everyone on my crew thinks they have the right to advise me on my love life."

"Probably because we'd be hard pressed to find us a new _captain_ at this late stage." He grinned. "Besides, what else is there to do out in the black?"

His current captain glared at him.

---

The suite of rooms Freya and Zoe were shown to were grand, if such a small word could be used for the opulence they found themselves in. Wall to wall green carpeting that looked like the lushest of grass and so deep there were probably whole civilizations lost in it, spindly ormolu furniture ready to leap into splinters if anyone even considered sitting on it, and a huge Cortex screen hidden behind dark green curtains that complemented the gold-flecked wallpaper.

The flunkey deposited the bags by the large four-poster bed and turned to Freya. "Mr Salazar is already greeting guests, but please take your time. When you are ready please join him in the main lounge." His eyes flickered towards Zoe. "And if you need anything else, anything at all, please ask."

"In case your imagination hasn't already thought of it?"

He smiled. "As a certainty, Madam Romanov."

"I'll bear that in mind."

The man bowed low and backed out of the room, closing the door silently behind him.

"Well," Freya said to Zoe. "We'd better see if the accommodation is adequate." She walked around, running a finger along an escritoire, then examining it for dust while Hank remotely swept the room for bugs or other surveillance devices.

"Shall I unpack for you, Madam?" Zoe asked, keeping in character.

"Yes. But run me a bath first."

"Yes, Madam." Zoe headed through the open doorway, and heard Hank's voice in the tiny ear-wig.

"_Nothing so far, but just give me a minute more."_

Zoe nodded, even though she knew he couldn't see, and began to fill the large tub, her nose wrinkling slightly at the scented water flowing from the faucet.

Back in the main room, Freya had completed her circuit. "Well?" she breathed.

"_Nothing, Frey. No bugs or cameras in here. But I picked up a lot as you came through the corridors, so don't get sloppy."_

Freya smiled. "Me? Sloppy? That's Mal's department." She heard her husband's voice spluttering in the background, and the smile became a grin. "But thanks, Hank," she said.

"_My pleasure. We'll keep this line open, if you need us."_

Mal's voice got louder as he moved closer to the com. _"Get yourselves ready and downstairs. Soon as you leave that room I want to be able to hear everything that's going on, dong mah?"_

"Understood. Talk to you soon, z_hang fu_." She slipped the tiny comunit out and scratched idly at her ear. "We're shiny," she called, and Zoe stepped back into the room.

"I heard. And I don't think I could've stood that smell much longer." She sneezed. "Perfumed water indeed."

"All the rage, I gather." Freya picked up her bag and emptied it out onto the bed, looking up at the mirror suspended above. "Do you think they expect us to sleep together?" she asked, eyeing it somewhat uncomfortably.

"I'm your bodyguard," Zoe said. "I'm not supposed to sleep."

"You know they don't believe that for an instance. That you're my bodyguard."

"Huh."

"It's true. You saw the look that man gave you. If we'd invited him to join us, he'd have been naked before I finished the sentence."

"Not my type."

"That's why he was disappointed." Freya laughed and tested the mattress. "I'm just glad I'm not paying."

Zoe crossed to the windows, her feet sinking into the carpet at least an inch. "Pity we don't have time to enjoy it. Likely looking tree outside."

"Branches?"

"Low enough." She turned. "Come on. We have to get downstairs."

"I know." Freya's voice was almost wistful.

Zoe smiled. "I'd've thought you'd be used to all this. Didn't you live in such splendour as a child?"

Freya shook her head. "My mother would have considered this the height of vulgarity. While resisting the almost overwhelming urge to poke about, of course."

"Well, you'd better resist too. Do you want to take the bathroom or shall I?"

---

Fifteen minutes later and Freya swept back out to find Zoe with her arms crossed, tapping her foot.

"It's about time," Serenity's first mate said.

"I had to make myself look beautiful," Freya responded. "That takes a while."

"Yeah, right." Zoe all but scoffed. "Still, you've come up clean enough."

Freya laughed. "So've you."

They examined each other closely. Zoe was in an outfit they had hurriedly bought before they left Persephone, a somewhat severe full-length silver-grey dress with matching bolero jacket that did little to hide the shoulder holster under her arm. She'd argued with Mal that she should be wearing pants, not a dress, but in the end was persuaded that she had to look like she worked for someone obscenely wealthy but not stand out too much. To that end she'd twisted her hair into a knot at the back of her skull, catching it with a pair of carved chopsticks that had silver tips. She still looked stunning, but in a workmanlike way.

Freya, on the other hand, was in red, almost the colour of fresh blood. Like Zoe's, bought in a hurry and put on Badger's account, it still fit her figure perfectly. It hung from a wide slash neckline, twisted around her torso, then flooded to the ground to pool at her ankles where her feet were encased in flat gold pumps.

Zoe looked her up and down then said, "Are you going to be okay not being armed?"

"Actually, I am." Freya turned enough so that her friend could see the slash in the skirt of the dress to the top of her thigh, where something sparkled.

"What the –"

The sleek fabric parted to reveal a thigh sheath, encrusted with jewels, the hilt of the knife resting snug against her skin. "Like it?"

"Where did you get that?"

"It was a wedding gift. From Badger." Freya couldn't help chuckling at the look on Zoe's face. "I thought it was appropriate, since I haven't had the opportunity to return it."

"Let me guess. Into his chest?"

"Don't tempt me." She reached back into the bathroom and tugged out her bag. "Better get this all done."

Zoe nodded, lifting out a length of rope from her own case. Tying both of them together, she carried them to the window Freya had already opened. "Nothing to break in there?" she asked.

"No."

"Good." She swung the rope and let go, the bags sailing accurately into the dark to hang on one of the lower branches of the tree outside. She brushed off her hands and asked, "Ready?"

"Ready." Freya pressed the ear-rig, hearing it click on. "We're heading out."

"_About time,"_ Mal said, his tone suggesting he was annoyed. Then his next words betrayed him. _"Take care, xin gan."_

"You know me."

"_Yeah, that's the problem."_

Zoe smiled as she picked up the small silver case and opened the door. "This way, Madam," she said smoothly.

"Thank you, Mills." Freya flashed a grin that disappeared as soon as she was outside in the corridor.

Back in the shuttle Hank looked at Mal. "You worried?"

"Me?" Mal shrugged. "Why would I be?"

"Yeah, me too."

"Just keep on listening, Hank."

"Wasn't going to do anything else, Mal."


	4. Chapter 4

The main lounge of The Spa was something of a misnomer, being a hall nearly two hundred feet long and fifty wide. Mirrors were fixed to the two long walls, shrouded with gossamer gold curtains that moved in the breeze from passing patrons, while large majolica jardinières holding a veritable forest of tall plants were spaced at equal intervals, leading to a fountain that glittered at the far end. Above hung five huge crystal chandeliers, sparkling their light over the activities below as music played softly, just on the edge of hearing, and delicately perfumed air circulated across the floor.

And then there were people. A lot of people, playing idly at the gaming tables set up down the left side of the lounge, or sitting in the comfortable chairs on the right, or simply standing and talking. They were all dressed in their finery, jewels around necks and in ears, diamond stickpins in ties, and showing every colour under the sun. Waiters in more of the ubiquitous purple and gold darted in and out.

It put Freya in mind of a flock of birds of paradise, all showing off, dancing around trying to mark their territory. She really didn't want to be there when they started the mating rituals.

Zoe decided that maybe her outfit was about right as her eyes swept the room. "Have to say, I can see a hell of a lot of Alliance out there. And I ain't the only one - there's a number of guards packing heat."

"Mmn," Freya agreed, equally quietly.

"_Feds?"_ Mal said in both their ears.

"Even a member of Parliament or two."

"_Rut it."_ His voice was bitter. _"Better get the job done soon as you can."_

"I wasn't planning on dawdling," Freya responded, then put her superior air back on as the flunkey from before approached them, another man at his side. "Game on," she whispered.

The flunkey bowed low, then turned to his companion. "Sir, may I present Madam Romanov?" Looking back to Freya he added, "Madam Romanov, this is your host for this evening, Mr Gabriel Salazar."

Freya extended one hand, only slightly limp at the wrist. "Mr Salazar."

The man in front of her was middle-aged, his hair slicked back from a high forehead, and an evening jacket that hung so well on his frame that it had to be made-to-measure. His nails were well-manicured, his face clean-shaven and verging on the handsome, and in fact there was nothing specifically wrong with him, but something about him still made her cringe inside.

"Madam Romanov." Salazar took her fingers in his and bent deeply over her hand, his lips just brushing her skin. "It is an honour."

"A pleasure."

The flunkey, his job done, vanished back into the crowd as Salazar stood straight, still holding on. "May I ask, your name … Romanov. Is it …" He let the rest of the sentence speak itself.

Freya allowed a small smile. "The family is _very_ old. Of course, I can't possibly say more than that."

"Of course." He inclined his head. "And your husband? I am surprised he has allowed you to attend unaccompanied."

"I'm not unaccompanied," Freya corrected, gesturing slightly towards Zoe. "And I am unmarried."

"Forgive me, but your title … Madam …"

"An affectation of my family, I am afraid. All the women, whether married or not, are given that soubriquet. It is a sign of respect." She put a lot of emphasis on the final word.

"Of course, Madam Romanov." He glanced at Zoe, standing stoically behind, and wondered at her exact position with this disconcerting woman. "And is there anything we can do to make your visit more … relaxing?"

"Perhaps."

"One of our gaming tables, possibly." He swept a hand towards the other end of the room. "We have roulette or baccarat. I believe there is also –"

"Perhaps a game of Tall Card. Later," Freya suggested, and admired the way Salazar covered his slight surprise.

"Of course. I'm sure we can find one to your high standards." He signalled to one of the waiters who hurried across with crystal flutes of champagne. "If I may?" He handed her one and took another for himself. "To your very good health."

"And to yours." Freya took a tiny sip, watching him as he swallowed half his glass. Unless he had an amazing constitution, the man was going to get paralytic before the night was over, she considered. "But if you don't mind, I would rather like to wander a little. If I am to invest in your Spa, I have to see it as your guests would, not being accompanied by the owner."

"Of course." Salazar bowed once more. "Not that we are talking money tonight, at least not openly." He twinkled at her. "However, your suite is available to you for the entire weekend, of course, so if you should wish to discuss business in the morning, I will be more than happy to oblige."

"That is acceptable."

"Then until later, dear lady." He lifted her hand to his lips once more, this time pressing much harder, before turning on his heel and disappearing among the other guests, leaving behind a faint scent of hair oil.

"Can I take a shower now?" Freya asked, wanting desperately to wipe the hand he'd held down her dress.

"You know, I ain't used to being ignored," Zoe said quietly.

"_But you're doing it so well,"_ Hank said in her ear. _"'Kay, according to the plans, the office with the safe is directly behind the far wall. You're gonna have to walk the floor, ladies." _He sounded like he was laughing.

"Can I kill him soon?" Freya asked.

"No."

"Pity." Putting the champagne flute onto the tray of a passing waiter, Freya straightened her shoulders. "No time like the present," she murmured, and moved into the crowd.

---

Jayne had been designated babysitter, much to his chagrin, as it was pointed out to him that River was on the bridge and Kaylee was in the engine room, both ready to get under way as soon as was needed. The big man had tried to persuade Simon to take over, but the doctor had demurred, saying he had to be prepared to tend the gunshot wounds that were bound to occur. Jayne had argued that he had to be ready to go make the inevitable rescue, but Simon had simply raised one eyebrow and gone on counting dressings.

So the ex-mercenary was sitting in the galley at the table, Bethie and Ethan opposite him, Jesse in the seat beside him, Ben and Hope next to her. Caleb was in the sling across his chest, only slightly interfering with the cards Jayne was attempting to deal.

"See, you gotta know how to play. Far as I can see, there's gonna be times when it'll be your only way of making money, and if'n that's the case, the only way of keeping this gorram ship in the air."

"Uncle Jayne, you mustn't swear," Ethan said firmly.

"And this gorram ship is our home," Bethie added.

"I know, short stub." Jayne put down the rest of the stack. "And I … well, guess it was really more a term of affection than swearing."

Maoli jumped onto the end of the table and strolled up, her sleek grey fur shining in the warm light.

"Gorram cat," Ethan tried as the kitten head-butted him.

Jayne had to stop himself laughing out loud. "Now, you see, don't quite come out right from you little'uns. You'd better stick to other words."

Jesse had picked up the hand of cards in front of her and managed to fan them out, just like she'd seen others doing. "'Ncle Jayne?" She held them out.

He looked over. "Hey, that's a good hand," he said approvingly. "See, you got a natural run there. Ain't no face cards, and they're different suits, but that's good. You could win with that hand."

The little girl beamed, understanding maybe half the words but recognising his tone.

"What about mine?" Ethan asked, laying his face up.

"Good start, but your sis'd beat you. You got a pair, but you'd need another to make it worth anything." He picked up the stack again. "Let's see what you'd get next time round." He dealt a further card to each of them except Jesse, whose face fell. "Aw, sorry, sweetie" he said, dropping another in front of her.

"Uncle Jayne, should you be teaching us to gamble?" Bethie asked, picking up the extra card and fitting it into her hand.

"Not gambling. We ain't betting for nothing, so it ain't gambling. Just … showing you the ropes."

She didn't look convinced, but laid her hand down. "Then are these any good?"

He glanced over. "What do you think?"

Bethie sighed. "I think I'd fold."

He grinned. "That's my girl. You ain't got a dog's dinner in that hand, and it'd take you too long to build anything worth keeping. You'd just put all your money in the pot and prob'ly end up walking away empty."

"That's what I thought," Bethie agreed sadly.

"And me?" Ethan asked.

Jayne checked. "Better. You got that third you were looking for."

"So I'd beat Jesse?" He glanced hopefully at his sister.

"Well, you would've, but …" He poked the card he'd laid down at the end. "If'n she had the balls to discard, and got that … no. See, she's just got a Jack, and that makes hers a high natural, and she'd still win."

"Oh." Ethan glared at her.

"Now come on. It's just a game," Jayne said soothingly, gathering up the pack, except by now Hope had dropped her cards onto the floor, and she and Ben had clambered down to pick them up, only they'd got sidetracked into rubbing Fiddler's belly. "Girl, I think you're the only natural player amongst 'em," he added to Jesse who nodded hard in agreement.

Bethie pinched at her forehead, as if she had a headache. "Uncle Jayne, is Auntie Frey okay?" she asked, turning her wide brown eyes onto him.

Times like this, she reminded him so much of her mother it was uncanny, but he pushed the slightly uncomfortable feeling away to answer her. "Sure she is, short stub. Why'd you think otherwise?"

"Not sure. Just a feeling." She rubbed harder.

His brow furrowed. He, like the rest of the crew, had come to trust these kind of feelings, coming as they did from any of the three Readers on board, and his hand crept down to rest on the butt of his gun.

_Jayne. It's starting_, he heard in his mind, and he glanced towards the bridge.

---

They'd finally reached Salazar's office, although the going had been tough. More than a dozen people had claimed acquaintanceship with Freya, all wanting to make her stop and talk, and every single one of them a man. In the end she had turned up the arrogance, and strode amongst them, ignoring them all. At the fountain she paused, allowing the sweet noise of the water falling to calm her.

"You okay?" Zoe asked.

"It's just …" Freya shook her head. "It's been a while since I was surrounded by quite so many people."

"You were out in Eavesdown just a few days ago."

"Not the same. At least they're honest in their deceitfulness. These people, though …" This time she did wipe her hand down her dress.

"Then let's get the job done."

Freya nodded and they slipped down the short corridor and tried the door, finding it opened easily. "Unwise to keep it unlocked."

"All the better for us, though." Zoe smiled slightly, then reached into the silver case, withdrawing a slim cigar-shaped device. Pressing the end and watching lights skim up and down one side, they slid into the room, closing the door behind them.

"Mal, you still there?" Freya asked.

"_Still here,"_ he acknowledged, his voice now more tinny, with an echoing that hadn't been there before. _"Hank says the jammer's working fine, but you ain't got much time. Someone's gonna notice they ain't getting the security feed before long_."

"Then let's get to work." She pulled on a pair of fine latex gloves and went down onto her heels, opening the silver case up fully. Lifting out a small black box, wires with connector pads coming from it, she placed it securely under the tumbler mechanism.

Zoe, from her position at the door, keeping an eye on the corridor, asked, "So, how does this thing work again?"

Not stopping her work in fixing the device, Freya answered, "According to Kaylee, it echoes back the telemetry of the last person opening the safe. Fools it, you might say." She looked up and grinned wryly. "I don't know, Zo. But Kaylee says it'll work. Which is one of the reasons we keep her around, after all. So we don't have to understand."

"_And also 'cause she doesn't do so much of this shilly-shallying," _Mal observed somewhat icily in their ears. _"Move it!"_

"You want this done fast, or you want this done right?" Freya asked, one eyebrow raised. He paused, and she could imagine the look on his face, and had to smile.

"_Just … stop talking quite so much."_

"Aye, aye, Captain, sir," Freya said, bending back to her work.

"What about the voltage if you get it wrong?" Zoe's voice had dropped to a whisper.

Another, somewhat messier device joined the first, sitting directly over the tumbler. "Let's hope Kaylee's as good as we think she is." She checked the connector pads. "Okay. We're good to go." Licking her lips, she pressed the activator on the side of Magpie's device, then flicked the switch on Kaylee's combination reader. It hummed into life, and she released the breath she was holding. "Well, at least I'm not fried."

"_How long, Frey?"_ Mal asked.

"No idea. How long does it take to go through a billion combinations?"

Zoe stiffened as she saw someone pause at the end of the corridor into the lounge, but they didn't come down.

"_And if someone finds you in there?"_ Mal sounded anxious, probably because he wasn't in the thick of things. He'd always been like that, ever since he was a mere Sergeant, ordering men to go and tackle something when he couldn't.

"Then I say I'm waiting for Salazar and that I want to invest." Freya shook her head. "Give it time, Mal."

"_Not sure we've -"_

There was a rumbling noise from the safe, and then a loud click. Freya went back down and pulled on the handle. The door opened silently. "We're in," she said softly.

"_Mal, an alarm just went off somewhere!" _Hank said urgently.

"Zoe." Freya nodded towards the two devices, and the other woman left the doorway to pull them free. Freya herself reached into the safe, moving aside what looked like deeds and other documents, before finding what she wanted. A box, made of wood, with a carving of an angel on it. Lifting it out, she slid it into a black fabric bag. "Done?" she asked.

Zoe nodded, clicking the case closed. "Done."

"_Then get the hell out of there."_

They hurried to the door, Zoe looking out first, then left the office, switching off the jamming device as they went. No-one noticed them stepping back into the main lounge, but Freya could see Salazar heading towards them, a thunderous look on his face, two of his flunkeys at his back. "Zo, get going. I'll delay him." She handed her the bag.

"Frey -"

"Just go. I'll be fine." She smiled. "And don't forget our things, Mills."

Zoe glared at her, but stepped between two groups and melted into the crowd.

As the man reached her, Freya stepped forward, blocking his path. "Mr Salazar, I had hoped I'd be able to see you," she began. "I've been taking a look around, and I've -"

The man gathered himself enough to look at her. "My dear lady," he interrupted, sketching an impression of a smile. "I would dearly love to talk with you right now, but I have a pressing engagement."

"But I wish to invest. I believe you have a thriving concern here, and with just a little more thought it could become one of the major venues on the Core circuit. Of course, it would need a woman's touch to remove some of the vulgarity, but -"

He glared at her. "Vulgarity?" he asked, despite himself. "You consider this vulgar?" He swept his arms around, taking in the entire room.

"Of course. But it only needs a minor adjustment to make it attractive to the more discerning client, and that would -"

"Madam Romanov, forgive me. But I cannot talk right now." He took hold of her arms, moving her aside. "Later, dear lady." He hurried towards his office.

"Not if I see you first," Freya whispered, heading in the other direction. Weaving her way through the crowd, she came in sight of the main doors. "_Tzao gao_."

"_What? What is it?_ _Frey, what's going on?_" Mal's voice was loud in her ear, and she lifted her hand to cover it in case anyone heard.

In response she thought, _Guards. At the exit. I don't think I'm going out that way._

"_You need help?"_ He sounded more than anxious now.

_Not yet. Zoe's on her way with the box. I'll be right behind her as soon as I can._

A loud noise had her turning back, staring down the lounge. Salazar was on the dais by the fountain, clapping his hands. Everyone turned to look.

"Ladies and gentlemen, forgive me, but I must ask you to remain where you are," he called, his voice carrying easily in the sudden silence. "There has been a theft from my office, and I believe the miscreant is still here."

His guests looked at each other, and a murmur of conversation broke out, some a little louder than others.

"How ridiculous," a woman said.

"I didn't come here to be accused of being a common thief," a man added.

"An outrage," said another.

Salazar held up his hands. "Please remain calm. While I do not believe that any of our guests would be involved in this, it is essential that we check everyone's ID, just to make sure you are all who you say you are. And please accept my apologies in advance. We want this over as quickly as possible, and I know you will co-operate fully with our security team." Salazar smiled at the assembled crowd, but it wasn't helping.

Freya tried to breathe normally, looking around. _Mal, I could do with a little advice here._ She heard muttering in the ear-piece.

"_Frey, I'm coming to get you."_

_NO!_ she thought firmly. _That wouldn't help. Just get me a way out of here._

There was more talking, then Hank's voice. _"There's a door halfway down the hall, on the left as you face the office. Can you see it?"_

She scanned the wall, about to say she couldn't see anything, then realising a waiter had just come out from behind the gossamer drapes. _Yes._

Mal must have passed on the message, because Hank went on, _"It leads to the kitchens. You should be able to get out that way."_

_You sure?_

_Frey, I don't think you got a choice_,Mal thought softly in her mind.

_On my way._ She moved slowly through the mass of people, dropping a word here and there, doing her best to wind people up in the hope that it would distract from her. She'd almost reached the doorway when someone touched her on the arm.

"I don't know about you," a soft female voice said, "but I have no intention of those idiots checking _my _ID."

Freya looked across, seeing a slim blonde woman, dressed in black, smiling slightly at her. "Excuse me?"

"Forget the act. I saw. You and your friend. You just got to the safe before I could."

"I don't know -"

"We don't have time, sister. Do you have a way out of here or not?"


	5. Chapter 5

"Who the hell are you?" Freya demanded.

The blonde shrugged. "Just someone who doesn't want to get caught. They'd never believe I wasn't involved, so I'd rather we didn't stand around here giving introductions. Do you have a way out or not?"

Freya drew herself up. "Look, I don't know who you think I am, or what you believe you've seen, but I am not to be accosted in this manner, and if you don't leave I will ask security to detain you." It was the best impression of her mother she'd ever done.

It didn't work. "You talk much more and we'll be attracting the kind of attention neither of us wants."

"Hmmn." Freya glowered at her, trying to see past the fog in her mind, but bouncing off it like a rubber wall.

"_Frey, who're you talking to?"_ Mal hissed in her ear.

"Never mind." She glanced around once more, then said, "This way." She led the other woman to the doorway, just visible behind the gossamer curtain that billowed out a little. Taking one last look to make sure no-one was watching, she slipped inside, knowing the blonde was at her heels.

Out of the perfumed air, there was a faint smell of cooking from further up the corridor, getting stronger as they hurried along. At the bend Freya held up her hand, and her companion stopped. Carefully she glanced around, but could see no-one in the kitchen just a short way further along. Nodding, she gestured and walked quickly forward, then felt the blonde almost run into her back as she stalled. Movement, and not the purple and gold of the flunkeys, but the black and shiny guns of the security guards, standing in their exit.

"Gorramit," Freya breathed, dipping into the only open doorway. The other woman followed her, closing the door behind them until only a sliver of light showed.

"They're not moving," the woman said. "I think we're going to have problems getting out that way."

Freya looked around the dark room, her eyes adjusting quickly. It was some kind of linen store, table cloths and tea towels piled high on metal shelving. Glancing up she couldn't see any kind of ventilation shaft they could use, so headed to the window, where a dim glow showed through years of grime. Obviously Salazar didn't spend money where he didn't have to.

"Well?" the blonde asked, leaning back into the room.

"Locked."

"They'll hear if you break the glass."

"I wasn't planning on that."

"Then we don't have a choice. We have to –" Her eyes widened as she saw Freya remove the knife from the thigh sheath. "I didn't think that was real."

"It's real." She smiled swiftly, then ran her hand over the window frame. Nothing tingled, but that didn't mean much. "Hank, we're in a closet. Can you tell if there's an alarm on the window? I'm standing right next to it."

"Who're you talking to?" the blonde asked, but Freya ignored her.

On the shuttle, Hank turned from watching Mal help Zoe through the door, then punched a few buttons. "Nothing's registering, Frey. But take it slow. If you hear me yell at you to stop, you stop, _dong mah_?"

"_Dang rahn."_

"Who is this 'we' she keeps talking about?" Mal asked, looking at Zoe as she stripped off the jacket.

"I don't know, sir. She was alone when I left."

"Well, she ain't now." He strode to the small bridge. "Anything?" he demanded.

"Nope. And just in case you were about to ask, I don't know who she's with, either."

Mal scowled, thinking hard, _You've got some explaining to do, woman._

_When I get back, okay? I'm kinda busy right now._ Freya smiled slightly and slid the knife between the frames.

"What are you doing?" the blonde asked.

"Getting us out of here."

"But you said, they're locked."

For a moment Freya closed her eyes, then continued working the blade in. "Where I was born we had a kitchen. And there was a storeroom, pretty much like this. With a window, very similar. Kept locked. Only my brother and I found out that the lock was old, and didn't fit all that well, and a well-placed knife would … make … the … frame …" She levered just a little and the window popped open.

"Ah."

"_Frey?"_ Mal again. _"You coming?"_

"We're on our way."

"_We?"_

Freya didn't respond, just wrapped the length of her skirt over her arm so it fell like arterial blood. "After you," she said to the blonde, slipping the knife back into its sheath.

Hank spoke above the sound of the shuttle engine. _"We're coming to you, Frey. There's a lawn about fifty yards from the back of the house. Meet you there."_

"Thanks." She raised an eyebrow at the blonde woman still standing staring at her. "Do you want to get caught or not?"

With something muttered under her breath that sounded suspiciously like cussing, the other woman hitched her skirt up, pulled one of the hampers across, and climbed up. "If I fall and break my neck, I'll come back and haunt you."

"If you fall, I'm not cleaning it up."

The woman glanced sharply at her, but clambered out of the window, dropping lightly to the ground beneath. A moment later Freya joined her, and they ran quickly along the gravel path, between the trimmed yew hedges, and towards the lawn. A rush of air signalled the shuttle descending, and it had barely touched the ground before Mal was leaning out of the doorway.

"Come on!" he shouted, waving his arm for them to hurry.

They didn't need any other urging, and jumped into the main body of the shuttle even as Hank lifted them away, banking hard and tossing them to the floor.

Freya sat up, laughing. "Well, that was bracing."

"Are you insane?" Mal demanded, holding onto the door frame as he slid it closed, then on the same breath hurled over his shoulder, "Hank, tell River to get Serenity ready to go. We'll be coming in low and hot."

"Got it, Mal," the pilot said.

"And who the hell is this?" Mal stood over the blonde still lying on the deck, her hair covering her features.

"Not sure," Freya admitted. "But it seemed better to bring her with me than leave her behind."

"We'll see about that," her husband said, holding out his hand and reaching down to help her up.

Then the blonde lifted her hair away from her face, looking up at him. "Mal?" she said, barely vocalising.

Mal glanced at her, and all the blood drained from his skin. "_Hun zhang_."

Freya saw but didn't acknowledge Zoe walking off the bridge with her gun in her hand. Her attention was entirely on the man and woman in front of her, Mal frozen in the act of helping her stand, the blonde looking astonished. "What the hell is going on?"

In response the stranger leaped to her feet, throwing her arms around Mal's neck and hugging him tightly. "Mal!" She sounded … delighted.

Mal lifted his arms slowly, taking hold of her shoulders and pushing her away so he could look into her face. "Becca?"

---

On Serenity's bridge, River's hand stopped in the action of bringing the Firefly to life, and she whimpered slightly.

Jayne immediately pushed off from the wall, going down onto his heels next to her. "You okay, moonbrain? You hurting?"

"Not me," she whispered. "But she will."

Her husband reached up, pushing the long dark hair out of her face. "I don't understand, Riv."

"Neither do I," she admitted, pulling herself back together and away from the future. "But I will."

In the sling around his chest, Caleb woke up, and his wail filled the bridge.

---

"Mal, I don't …" She was trying to get back to him, to embrace him again. "I don't believe it's you."

"Uh, me neither."

"Sir, do you want me to –" Zoe began, her thumb very close to the safety on her pistol, but Mal shook his head.

"It's okay."

Freya stood up, feeling her heart beginning to jackhammer. "Mal, you want to explain to me how come you know this woman?"

"Well, I –"

Mal didn't get any further, as the blonde turned a wide, shining, smiling face on her. "He was my fiancé."

"Fiancé."

"A few years ago, but I hope he hasn't forgotten." The blonde laughed. "You haven't, have you?"

Freya waited, waited for him to say that it wasn't true, that it was a mistake, like the time Maddy had said the same thing and he'd said she'd misunderstood, that it wasn't correct, that it was a downright lie … anything but the words that came out of his mouth.

"I ain't forgotten, Becca."

At least he didn't look happy to see her, but that might just be shock. "Mal?" Freya stepped forward. "Aren't you …" She swallowed hard. "Aren't you going to introduce me?"

"Can't this wait?" Mal snapped, then saw the look on her face. "I'm sorry, Frey, but we're kind've in the middle of a getaway here."

"Oh. Yeah, sure. Later." She backed up until she felt the bench against wall hit her knees, and she sank down onto it before she fell down.

Becca, the blonde, raised an eyebrow, then looked around, peering into the gloom. "Zoe? Is that you?" She chuckled. "I should have known you'd still be hanging around this old reprobate."

"Becca." Zoe didn't move. Neither did her gun.

"Are you going to shoot me?"

"I haven't decided yet."

Freya couldn't believe it. Not only Mal, but it seemed like Zoe knew this woman too. This … Becca. She felt like all the air had been knocked out of her.

"Coming up on Serenity," Hank called over his shoulder, then spoke into the com. "River, we good to go?"

"_Soon as you're docked."_

"Coming in now. Docking in … three, two, one." There was a slight thud as the shuttle settled, then a judder as the clamps engaged, drawing them in tight to the hull.

"Hank, get us out of here 'fore someone takes it into their head to call the Feds and get us pinched," Mal said, then had to grab a stanchion as he felt his Firefly lift from the ground.

"Dammit, girl's always trying to take my job," the pilot said, unbuckling and standing up.

Freya was quicker. She got to her feet, her hand on the door before anybody else could move. "I'm going to change," she said quietly, looking into Mal's face. "Then I think maybe we need to talk." She slid the door open and disappeared outside.

"Hon?" Hank murmured to his wife, who shook her head slightly. "Well, I'd better make sure River ain't gonna fly us into a moon or anything," he said to nobody in particular, and followed Freya out into the cargo bay.

"Good idea," Zoe breathed back.

She hadn't got very far, but was leaning on the handrail, head down, looking for all the world as if she was deciding whether to jump or not.

"Frey, you okay?" Hank asked, coming up behind her. She just held up one hand in the universal signal that, if he didn't leave her alone, she was going to gut him. He nodded, for once understanding perfectly, and headed for the bridge instead.

Back inside the shuttle Mal turned to Zoe. "We get it?"

"Yes, sir."

"Usual place, then."

"Do you want me to stay?" Zoe asked bluntly.

Mal shook his head. "I don't think Becca's gonna hurt me."

"As if I would," the blonde pouted, her hands on her hips.

"Yeah." Zoe picked up the black bag. "I'll be outside, sir."

"Fine."

Mal waited until his first mate had left, then turned to Becca. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing." She sat down on the bench, arranging her skirts about her legs. "I was on Claymore, minding my own business, when I see someone breaking and entering. Well, entering, anyway." She shook her head. "You know, I really didn't recognise Zoe in that outfit. She looks good, by the way."

"I'll be sure to pass on the compliment." He crossed his arms. "That don't explain how come you attached yourself to my … to Frey."

"Because they were about to start checking IDs." A faint look of disgust crossed her face. "Let's just say mine wasn't going to stand up to violent scrutiny." She leaned back. "So what were you … acquiring?"

"Nothing to do with you."

"Fine. Don't tell me. But I'd quite like to know where we're heading."

"Me and mine are going to Persephone." His face was still, unreadable.

"Persephone. Huh." She glanced around the shuttle. "Um, Mal, look, grateful as I am for the lift, but I left my change of clothing back on Claymore. And I don't exactly fancy travelling all that way in this outfit."

"Who said you were coming with us?"

She laughed, but it died in her throat as she saw the ice in his eyes. "You can't be suggesting you might put me out the airlock."

The slight vibration neither of them had noticed ceased as Serenity broke the upper atmo.

"Haven't made up my mind, yet."

She stood up, moving across the shuttle to where he stood. Putting her hands on his crossed arms, she looked up into his face. "Mal, are you honestly saying you haven't forgiven me yet?"

"Actually, I'm honestly saying I ain't thought about you in a long while, Becca. But forgive you? No."

She could almost see the anger rolling off him in waves. "Fine," she said, stepping back. "Well, while you make up your mind, any chance someone can lend me a change of clothing?"

"I'll see if Zoe has anything might do."

"How about … what was it, Freya? She looks as if –"

Suddenly he was in her face, pushing her hard back against the shuttle wall. "You stay away from her, _dong mah_? You ain't good enough to clean her shoes."

She felt a faint thrill of fear burn up her spine, but kept her eyes locked on his. "Do I detect something there, sergeant?"

He let her go. "Not sergeant. I'm captain, this is my boat, and if you don't wanna spend the rest of the trip locked up in the hold, you'll mind your tongue and your manners."

She ripped off a textbook salute. "Yes sir!"

He glared at her, but stalked out of the shuttle without another word. Zoe was waiting for him.

"Sir?"

"Find her something to wear, then bring her to the galley."

"And Frey?"

He took a deep breath. "I'm gonna go talk to her now."

"How much are you going to tell her?"

"That I ain't figured out yet."


	6. Chapter 6

Freya was standing in the middle of their bunk, wearing just her trousers. She was staring at something in her hands, her back to the hatch.

Mal lowered himself gingerly down the ladder, watching her all the time, noting the grey aspect of her tattoo. Sometimes he cursed that damn flame, telling him he'd hurt her again, as if he didn't know. And now he could see her eyes were fixed on her coin, the one she used for meditation. "Frey?"

She seemed to rouse herself, pushing the medallion into her pocket before picking up her bra from the bed. "Mal."

"You okay?" He glimpsed the side of her breast, but it was gone in a moment as she pulled the bra into place.

"Shiny." She didn't turn, just grabbed her shirt, shrugging into the sleeves.

"Then look at me."

"Not sure I want to."

He let go of the ladder and crossed the small distance towards her. "It was a long time ago, Frey."

"Not that long. She's not decrepit."

"Long enough." He reached out for her, but the tension in her back made him drop his hand.

"Before or after?"

"What?"

"Me. Sleeping with me that first time. Before or after?"

He licked suddenly dry lips. "Uh …"

Her shoulders collapsed. "I see. After."

"But it ain't like you think."

She span on her heel, her eyes blazing. "Then tell me what it is like, Mal. Tell me how you didn't ask that woman to marry you. Tell me, Mal."

"I can't."

All the fire in her seemed to die at once, and she sat down hard on the bed. "I was wrong," she whispered.

"'Scuse me?"

"I was wrong. I don't want to talk to you."

Pain spiked through him. "I love you, Frey. No-one else."

She shook her head. "Just go away."

Normally he wouldn't let her do this, not let her sit and wallow in whatever this was. Most times he could bring her round, show her how stupid it was to fight. But this time a surge of anger ran through him, and this time he let it out. "Fine. I'll go. Not like I wanna have to be explainin' myself to you again anyways. It was a long time ago. Before us. The real _us_. But I ain't gonna waste my breath." He climbed the ladder and stomped down the corridor to the galley, ignoring the voice in his gut telling him to stop being an idiot, to go back and comfort his wife.

River was sitting at the table, her hands clasped lightly in front of her.

"We on course?" he asked, trying to control his breathing.

"Persephone. Three days."

"Shiny."

"No, it isn't."

He glared at her. "You stay outta my brain, albatross. What's between me and Frey is … between us. You and the rest of the crew are to stay out, okay?"

She didn't flinch, just stared at him with her dark eyes. "Why are you so angry?"

"Not angry."

"So angry you left her in pain."

"Leave it, River." Mal leaned on the counter, facing away from her, his fingers digging into the metal and all the muscles in his back solid.

"No."

"I said leave it!" He span on his heel, ready to vent some of the fury he felt inside. "It ain't any of your affair!"

"No. You know you were in the wrong. Twice in a few days."

His eyes widened. "You talking about Magpie? But that's just crazy. It was a nothing, made worse 'cause Kaylee built it up."

"But you didn't tell her. She would have laughed, made fun of you, but it wouldn't have been there waiting. And she'd have been able to accept … _her_ … better."

He opened his mouth, about to deny she was anywhere near right, but he couldn't. Besides, maybe the young psychic in front of him had some insights into the woman she considered to be more a mother than blood to her. He slumped a little. "_Lao tyen-yeh_," he murmured, almost to himself. "I don't know what's gotten into me, River. I went down there to talk to her, but I just –"

Whatever he was going to say was interrupted by Kaylee and Simon stepping down into the kitchen from the other end.

"Everything okay?" the young doctor asked, looking from his sister to his captain, wondering at the intensity of their faces.

"Shiny," River said, finding a smile for him. "Nothing to worry about."

"If you say so." He didn't sound convinced.

"So why'd you want us all here?" Kaylee asked, sitting down. "Only I got Bethie watching Hope, and you've no idea what a coupla girls their age can get up to if I don't keep an eye on 'em." She grinned, trying to lighten things a little.

"What kind of things?" River asked.

"Terrible things," Kaylee affirmed. "I have nightmares."

"You mean like the time I got into Simon's room and exchanged his spot cream for hair dye?"

Her brother's eyebrows threatened to disappear into his scalp. "I knew it was you!" he said, finger pointing somewhat shakily at her. "You swore it was Bradley Camberson at my birthday party. It took weeks for the colour to wear off fully!"

She smiled sweetly, just as Jayne strode into the galley, slapping the doctor on the back.

"You had spots?" he asked, grinning as he dropped into his chair next to River.

Simon blushed. "Childhood acne. Nothing much."

"Aw, that's okay, honey," Kaylee said, taking his hand and squeezing it. "We all had 'em." She looked up at Mal. "Ain't that right, Cap'n?"

Mal nodded slowly, immensely glad they'd given him time to pull himself together. "I imagine we did," he admitted. "Even me. Thought I'd have to hide all through that summer."

"You looked like –" River began to Simon, but stopped at the glare he gave her. "I thought you'd notice before you put it all over your face," she explained gently.

"I was going straight to bed, River. Then when I woke up I thought I'd contracted the Black Death or something!"

"Black Death isn't spots. It's lumps in the groin and armpit that ooze –"

"River."

She smiled at him. "Boob."

"Brat."

Jayne growled a chuckle, but stopped suddenly, staring at the doorway.

"What's with all the name calling?" Becca said, preceding Zoe and Hank down the steps.

"We got us a passenger?" Kaylee asked, wondering why the blonde woman was wearing one of Zoe's old shirts, and what looked like an even older pair of Hank's cargo pants. Maybe an inch or two shorter than Freya, she was slim and very fit looking, well able to take care of herself. Delicately boned, she had green eyes, but her most notable feature was the long, pale gold hair that was now caught up in a tie at the back of her neck yet still reaching nearly to her waist.

"Not as such." Mal pointed to a chair. "Sit," he said Becca.

"Sure." She lowered herself down, her entire body language relaxed as she looked at the new faces. "Hi." There was a mutter of hellos, then she grinned up at Mal. "Are you going to introduce me, or not?"

Mal crossed his arms. "This is Rebecca Morgan. Known to most as Becca." He went around the table. "That's Simon and Kaylee. They're wed. So're Jayne and River. And that's Hank, Zoe's husband."

Becca couldn't help a bark of laughter. "You, Zoe? An old married lady?"

"Not so much with the old," Hank said, defending his wife.

"No. Of course not." She nodded. "Nice to meet you all."

"Nice to meet you too," Kaylee said, but she was hesitant. "Cap, sorry, but … who is she?"

Mal took a breath, not liking what he was about to say one little bit. "Becca and me … we used to be engaged."

Simon's mouth dropped open, but it was Kaylee who said, "Engaged?"

"Long time ago, _mei-mei_," Mal assured her. "Right now we're just giving her a lift."

"But engaged? As in, to be married?"

"As in."

"But when was this? Must've been 'fore I joined the crew, otherwise –"

"It was before I had Serenity. Like I said, a long time ago. And I don't doubt Becca will be more'n glad to fill you in on most of the details." Suddenly he felt a lassitude spread through him, and he knew he'd had enough. "Zoe, get a berth set up for her in the passenger quarters. Kaylee, anything you got she might need, I'd be beholden if you'd share."

"No problem, Cap." A frown settled on her forehead. "Cap, what about Frey?"

"You just see we get to Persephone in one piece," Mal said firmly. "I'm gonna check the cargo." He strode out of the door, not even glancing at Becca.

"Well, that went well." The blonde woman smiled brightly at the others.

Kaylee, ever ready to make friends, returned it somewhat tentatively. "So, you and the Cap …"

"Me and the Cap." Becca laughed. "Somehow that just doesn't sound right. Captain. It doesn't seem to fit him."

"Then I reckon you don't know the man well as you think you do," Jayne rumbled. "Was always meant to be one, far as I can see." He felt River's hand creep into his, squeezing slightly

"Not when I knew him." Becca grinned again, and the others noticed the small lines around her mouth and eyes. She was older than she looked.

"And when was that?" Simon asked.

"After the war." She leaned forward. "Hasn't he talked about that time?"

"No," Zoe put in, her face unreadable. "Nothing to tell."

Kaylee and Jayne glanced at each other. They knew a little of Zoe's life at that time, but Mal never spoke of it, of what happened to him between leaving the camp on Santo and buying Serenity. That year was a blank, as far as they were concerned.

"Well, there's something," Becca said. "There were the disbursement sites, for a start. That's where we met. In the one for the people from Shadow."

"Shadow?" Now it was Hank's turn to be surprised. "You were from Mal's home planet?"

"I was."

"But you … you don't sound like it."

"Different area. We never knew each other, and besides, my parents sent me to school off-world. I came back sounding like I do, to a place about to go to war." She shrugged. "I guess that's the thing about life. It keeps throwing you a curveball."

"Did your family … did they make it?" Kaylee asked quietly.

"No." Becca was matter-of-fact about it. "They died."

"I'm sorry."

"Long time ago."

"I'm still …" She looked down at her hands, feeling sadness for the woman opposite.

"Anyway, there we were, all together, and we got talking. Became friends. Isn't that right, Zoe?" Becca looked up at the dark woman.

"We got acquainted," Zoe corrected.

"But you weren't from Shadow," Hank pointed out to his wife. "How come you were there?"

She shrugged. "Freighter-born. They couldn't exactly send me back there, so they let me stay with the Captain."

"And that's where we hooked up. It was almost like a whirlwind, wasn't it, Zoe?" Becca leaned back, a smile on her face as she remembered the past. "It only took a few weeks and he was begging me to marry him."

"I don't recall the begging."

"I do. And of course I said yes."

"But ya didn't." Jayne's eyes narrowed. "Who broke it off?"

Becca sighed. "Mutual consent. We decided we weren't right for each other."

Hank saw Zoe glance sharply at the other woman, but she didn't respond.

"What about Freya?" Kaylee asked. "Where was she while all this was going on?"

"Look, what is this about her?" Becca was exasperated. "You keep bringing her up. How come?"

Kaylee glanced at Simon, then said, "Well, she's Mal's wife."

"She's …" There was shock, now. "His wife?"

"Yeah. Got kids and everything."

"He didn't say." Becca shook her head. "He didn't say."

"Yeah, well, private life's just that," Jayne put in, standing up. "Private." He looked down at River. "You coming?"

"In a minute."

"'Kay. Don't be long."

"I won't."

Jayne gave Becca one last hard look, and walked out of the galley.

"Did I say something to upset him?" the blonde asked.

"Freya's his friend," River explained.

"And I'm not looking to come between a man and his wife." Becca leaned her elbows on the old wood. "And I swear I didn't know. We were just in the same place at the same time, and … coincidences do happen, you know."

River didn't answer, just looked at her.

Zoe stirred. "Kaylee, if you'll get those bits I'll show Becca to a room."

Kaylee jumped up. "Sure. Best she gets some rest 'fore she meets the kids, otherwise the trauma might be too much." She smiled. "Come on, Simon. You can help."

"What with?"

"Come on." She dragged him from his seat, leading him towards the rear stairs.

"Becca." Zoe nodded towards the door.

"You still don't like me, do you?" Becca stood up, straightening the borrowed shirt.

"You're trouble. Always have been. And no. I don't like you."

"It's not like I did anything to you."

Zoe didn't answer, just waited until the other woman sighed and walked in front of her.

Hank looked at River. "What's going on?" he asked. "Can you see?"

"There's no such things as coincidences," the young psychic said. "But I'm too foggy." Her brow furrowed. "Have to concentrate."

"You want me to leave?"

"No." She looked up. "But I will." She slid out of her chair and was gone before Hank could say another word.

---

Down in the cargo bay, Mal hadn't even looked at the boxes still waiting to be delivered to Kendrick. Instead he sat on a crate, staring at his boots.

"You come to finish our argument?" he asked, knowing she was behind him.

River drifted to his side, sitting down next to him. "No. Just wondering if you've come to your senses yet."

"I think maybe I have." He looked at her profile. "She still in our bunk?"

"No."

He waited, but she didn't say anything else. Eventually he sighed and asked, "Would you happen to know where Freya is, albatross?"

The young woman drew her legs up to her chest, balancing the heels of her bare feet on the crate. "Yes."

"You likely to be telling me any time soon?"

"No."

He sighed again. "She's hurting, ain't she?"

"Yes."

"And it's my fault."

She turned to look at him, her dark eyes boring into his soul. "You should have told her."

"About what? That I'd seriously thought of marrying Becca? Of being with her for the rest of my life? Of having a family with _her_?"

"Yes."

"What good would that have done?" He shook his head. "I never, in this whole gorram 'verse, considered I'd be seeing her again, let alone it happen like this."

"Lack of forethought doesn't excuse the pain."

"I know, _xiao nu_." He sighed. "I just wish …"

"Steak."

"Yeah." He stared at his hand. "I'd cut this off, you know, rather than see her hurting. If she told me, if it'd make it better for her, I'd go up to the kitchen right now and take it off at the wrist."

"She knows."

"But she don't believe it."

"Not right now."

He turned enough so he could look into her face. "What do I do, River? How do I tell her I'm sorry?"

"She thought it was only Inara she had to contend with. Then she met Maddy. Now Becca. She's afraid."

"That there's more?"

She nodded slowly. "Others you've kept secret from her. Others you want more."

"There'll never be."

"She's not exactly thinking sanely at the moment."

Mal understood that. "How do you cope, little one? Knowing what you do of Jayne's past?"

She shrugged. "It's past. And I know all about Charity."

"What?"

"No-one important. Not now. But he didn't hide her from me."

"That what I've done? Hidden stuff?"

"Of course. We all do. But bringing such things into the light can be painful. We have to be sure they will stay hidden, or find a way to explain."

"I tried."

"Not hard enough." She gazed into the corner by Jayne's weights. "Do you trust her? This Becca?"

"No," Mal admitted.

"Coincidences," River breathed.

"Don't believe in 'em, albatross."

"Good." She paused a moment, then said, "She's on the bridge."

He didn't need to ask who. "Can I make this better?"

"Yes."

"I've gotta tell her everything, don't I?"

"Tell her you love her."

"I do. God, River, I love her so much this is killin' me."

"Tell her that too."

He stood up, taking a deep breath. "She ever gonna really forgive me?"

She raised her head, looking into his soul. "She loves you. And eventually."

"Well, better make that eventually start now." He strode purposefully up the stairs.


	7. Chapter 7

"Frey, do you want me to take over?" Hank asked, leaning in the doorway. "I mean, it is what your husband pays me for."

"No, that's fine. I just need to sit for a while." She smiled at him. "You go play with Ben."

"I'd rather play with Zoe," the pilot said. "Only she's not in the mood for games at the moment."

"Are you surprised?"

"No, not really. But I keep trying."

"Too much information, Hank," Mal said, coming up the steps behind him.

"Ah. Right." He straightened up. "Shall I go someplace else? I mean, if you're wanting to use the bridge for fighting."

"We're not going to fight. Are we?"

Freya turned back to the stars. "Of course not."

"Right." Hank backed up around Mal, then span on his heel, heading back towards the galley at what he hoped was a nonchalant pace, but suspected was almost a full run.

"So." Mal stepped onto the bridge and sat down in the co-pilot's seat.

"So."

"You're mad at me."

"No."

"Yes, you are. I can tell."

"Oh? Feeling psychic yourself, are you?" She couldn't stop a trace of sharpness creeping into her voice.

"Ha! See, I knew you were mad at me." He turned to face her. "It was a long time ago."

"Right."

"So long ago … I don't even think of that time no more."

"No reason why you should." She hadn't looked at him.

"It was right after the war. When you were … off doing whatever it was you were doing. And I didn't ever ask what that was, I might add." He saw her lips tighten. "Okay, no, that's not what we're talking about," he said quickly. "She and I were … well, she came from Shadow, and –"

"I know. I heard."

Mal glanced over his shoulder towards the galley. "She told them?"

"Yes."

"How much?"

She shook her head, a small, unfunny laugh escaping. "I wouldn't know. I've no idea how much there is to tell."

"She wasn't who I thought she was, Frey," he said quietly.

"Are any of us?"

"Gorramit, Frey, you look at me!" He went down onto his knees next to her, pulling the chair around, even though she kept her head lowered. "I don't know how to say I'm sorry for not telling you. I can give you the reasons, maybe the excuses, but I can't make it not happen. She's just a girl. A woman. And I once thought to marry her." He swallowed as he saw pain flit across her face. "Once, Frey. Just once. Then something happened and I realised I didn't want her."

He sat back onto the floor, leaning against the console. "You want me to say I figured that I couldn't marry her with you in the background? Okay. I'll say it. Only you know that ain't true. It took me a long time to get over that near terminal stupidity. Years. And not 'til you came back into my life, standing on that dock as if you owned the place." He smiled a little. "Still took me a while to remember, to realise how I felt, but I chose you, _xin gan_."

She didn't answer, but he knew she was listening, could tell by the slight jerking of her hands in her lap.

"But even with Becca, back then … I think maybe you _were_ part of it, part of the reason I never did forgive her. Same with Inara. Why it never worked for us. You know what you did to me that night. I've told you often enough. And I've apologised for pushing it away." For a long moment he closed his eyes, seeing Freya in that hotel room, her body next to his, and the slow dawning with the coming day that he couldn't have her _and_ be the soldier he needed to be. "But I found you again. And I'm planning on spending the rest of my life making it right. Frey, I love you."

"I know." Finally she looked into his blue eyes. "I'm sorry," she said, her voice nothing more than a whisper on the breeze.

He moved closer to her, shocked to see the emotion in her face. "You're … why?"

"I know I'm being unreasonable. I know you weren't a virgin that night, even if I was. And between … well, I'd not exactly been celibate either."

"Two, Frey." His lips twitched a little, hoping he was right and it was going to be okay. "All of two men. One time only. That's almost as good as."

She swallowed hard. "I don't know why this has affected me so much."

"I do." He took hold of her hands and pulled gently, inordinately pleased that she let him draw her down into his lap. "Magpie."

"That girl?"

Mal nodded. "I didn't tell you about what she was like, and then this coming on top … no wonder you thought you couldn't trust me." She stiffened slightly in his arms. "But you can. Whatever happens." He touched her wedding ring, putting his own next to it. "Forever, Frey." Wrapping himself around her he went on, "I love you, Frey. Married _you_. Hell, we got two kids on this boat that are yours and mine. Nothing and no-one is gonna come between us."

"I know that. It's just sometimes –"

"Your jealousy gets away from you. I know. Hey, nobody's perfect."

She gazed at him. "I'm not perfect."

"Didn't say you were, _ai ren_. In fact, I seem to recall my exact words being that nobody is. We all got our faults. Even me." He smiled as he saw her mouth lift at the corners. "But to me, you're close as. And all married couples argue. Kinda goes with the territory."

She finally leaned against him. "How come you always know the right thing to say?"

He chuckled. "Thought the problem here was 'cause I didn't say anything at all."

"Maybe it's that feeling I can't get rid of," she said softly.

"That something bad's gonna happen?"

"Yeah."

"Well, if it does, then we'll cope with it together. All of us. Like we have done already. But you don't need to feel jealous, Frey. I know me saying that and you doing it ain't ever gonna coincide, but Becca ain't even Inara. I'm not asking you to be friends with her. Just put up with her 'til we reach Persephone and we can dump her in the dust."

Freya stifled a laugh. "You're going to wait that long?"

"Honestly, I'd rather do it now, but it'd prob'ly be messy, and Jayne'd argue about having to clean up, so … yeah, Persephone's better."

"And the fact that she turned up right at that moment?" She looked into his face. "You believe she just happened to be there, right when we were robbing the place?"

He narrowed his eyes. "You getting psychic or something?" he asked, almost seriously.

"I mean it. I can't feel her, can't read anything at the moment, but –"

He put his finger on her lips. "Frey, I don't think it was an accident. I know Becca. She doesn't do anything without a reason."

"Why do I get the feeling you know what that's likely to be?"

"Well –"

A chime from the console made them both look up.

"Sounds like a wave," Freya said, climbing to her feet and sitting down again.

Mal followed her, his body feeling bereft of her touch. "So who is it?"

Freya's eyebrow raised. "Badger."

"We're still too far out for a live feed, so it'd be just like him to drop bad news this way …" He sighed heavily. "Go on. Let's find out what the little _huang shu lang_ wants now."

Freya pressed the button, and the screen shimmered to life, and the bane of their current existence appeared.

"_I'll make this short, seein' as I got more important things to do that talk to the likes of you."_ Badger smirked.

"'M I wrong in wanting to put my fist through the vidscreen?" Mal murmured, and found himself amazingly happy to see Freya flash him a smile.

"_There's no need for you to worry about delivering the main cargo. Got someone comin' to meet you, transfer it. They'll take it on, give you half the coin you're owed then deliver it themselves. Like I told you, my client ain't exactly enamoured of people what wear brown, so this is how it's gonna be_." He straightened his jacket._ "The pick-up's transponder code is attached to this message, so you'll know it's legit. Then all you gotta do is bring the other package to me and get paid the rest."_

"If that _hwoon dahn_ thinks I'm gonna just hand over the goods and –" Mal began, but Badger apparently had anticipated the objection.

"_I know you're prob'ly swearing at me right now, but this is the deal, take it or leave it. And remember, if you leave it, you're stuck with stuff you might not wanna be caught with if the Alliance 'appens to call."_

Mal's jaw dropped. "Is he threatening me?"

"'_Sides, I don't think you'll mind too much when you see who it is," _Badger went on, reaching forward. _"See you in the world, Captain Reynolds."_ The satisfied look was back on his face as the screen went to static.

Freya switched it off, then checked the transponder data. She laughed.

"What's caught your funny bone?" Mal demanded. "That weasel's trying to gyp me somehow, and I ain't gonna fall for it."

"He's right, though." She tapped the information screen. "You're not going to mind."

He hooked his arm around her waist and looked over her shoulder. He shook his head slightly. "And I thought I was the only decent and upright person contemplated taking work from that _ji guan_." Pulling her closer against him, he whispered, "But you say he's right again, and I ain't gonna be responsible for my actions."

She felt his warmth suffuse through her, melting the last resentment in her core, and she pressed back into him. "You want to tell the others who we're meeting, or shall I?"

"Oh, I think we'll let it be a surprise." He tightened his grip, letting his other hand run up and down her hip. "Now, you gonna come help me rustle up something for the crew to eat, or are we gonna argue some more?"

She sighed as he kissed her neck. "I don't want to argue. I'm not that hungry, either."

"Fine." He lifted his head and yelled over his shoulder, "Hank! You're cooking!"

Freya winced, but smiled. "You do know we have an internal com, don't you?"

"Really?" He nuzzled the top of her tattoo. "P'raps you'd better come down to our bunk and you can explain all about it."

"Are you tryin' to get around me, Captain Reynolds?" She did a creditable impression of Badger, then yelped as he pinched her.

"Less of that, wife. And I hope I'm trying to get round you." He soothed where he had pinched. "It gonna work?"

"I'm still angry."

"No, you ain't." He rested his chin on her shoulder. "Like I said before. Us is forever."

She turned in his embrace to look into his eyes. "Ungrammatical, but I like the sentiment."

"Then why don't you –"

Whatever he was about to suggest was interrupted by Hank leaning in the doorway, covering his eyes with his hand. "Look, I know you two've made up, but do you have to do it here? And I ain't cooking. It ain't my turn."

"You wanna walk to Persephone?" Mal asked, not even looking at the pilot.

"_Da-shiong bao-jah-shr duh la doo-tze_," Hank muttered.

"What was that?"

"Nothing!" Hank said quickly, heading back towards the kitchen. "Just don't blame me if everything gets burned!"

---

Forty hours later, Serenity was that much closer to Persephone, and Becca had been prying into almost everyone's affairs.

She'd spent pretty much all of the first day in the engine room, asking questions about Serenity, about the Core, passing tools as needed.

"You know a bit more'n I'd'a thought about engines," Kaylee declared, impressed.

"I've had to. Moving around like I do, sometimes it's the only thing between me and the great black out there. Besides, some of the engineers I've been around have been cute, too." She laughed. "If I hadn't learned to talk about catalyzers and pin locks, I wouldn't've had nearly as good a time."

"Know what you mean." Kaylee wiped her hands on a cloth at her waist, remembering her first time on board, and silently thanking Bester. Without him, she not only prob'ly be dirtside still, but she wouldn't have Simon, Bethie and Hope. "Although I ain't an engineer. Just a mechanic."

"I don't think there's anything _just_ about you." Becca grinned. "Anyone who can keep a Firefly in the air should have the title to go with it."

"I don't mind," the young woman said, feeling the blush warming her cheeks. "And I love this boat. Have since the moment I set my eyes on her."

"I can see why." Becca looked around at the old metal, paint covering some parts, rust others, unable to keep a trace of condescension out of her voice.

Kaylee bridled a little. "Oh, I know she maybe ain't the newest thing around, but she's home."

Becca smiled. "Home to a lot of people. That big guy … Jayne, is it?"

"That's him."

"How come the name?"

Kaylee shrugged. "Wouldn't know. Don't even think about that now. He's just Jayne."

"I suppose it was his parents' idea of a joke."

"Nope. His parents … well, I met his Ma. She was a real nice lady, and I don't think she was gonna do that to a son of hers."

"But then why –"

"I don't know!" Kaylee sounded a little exasperated. "Look, Becca, we're just folks. We don't care what happened before, 'cause we're here now. A family."

"Family." Becca paused, a far away look in her eye, occupied with memories of her own. Then she shook herself. "So, Miss Kaylee, engineer extraordinaire, what does that do?"

Kaylee laughed and bent back to her task.

It was very late that night when Hank came across Becca in the cargo bay. "You lost?" he asked, leaning on the catwalk railing.

She span on her heel and glared up at him, a mixture of shock, surprise and anger on her face. "What the hell …"

"Sorry. Didn't mean to startle you." He grinned. "I had a course correction to make. We're passing mighty close to a comet, and I wasn't too sure about its reliability as to not deviating, so I thought I'd better do it myself rather than rely on the autopilot." The grin widened and he held up a bag of protein crackers. "'Course, then I got the munchies. Heard someone making a noise down here, came to see."

She stood staring at him, her hands on her hips. "I didn't think I was."

"Ah, but I've got ears like a bat." He tapped his lobes, then went on quickly, "Not that they look like 'em, though. I mean, ears like a bat on a man as good-looking as me … spoil the effect, don't you think?"

"I suppose."

"Truth is, when the ship's quiet like this, everyone asleep, you can hear a pin drop down in the infirmary from up on the bridge."

Becca relaxed. "Sorry," she said, pushing her blonde hair off her shoulders and smiling at him. "I didn't mean to disturb anyone. I was just restless." She shrugged prettily. "I think I'm still getting used to ship's time."

Hank nodded in agreement. "I know what you mean. That's why we tend to stick to our own clock, 'less we're gonna be docked for a while. It's easier on the kids, too. Gives them stability, you know?" A yawn crept up on him unawares, and suddenly his jaw was open big enough to swallow a moon. "Oh, sorry about that," he said, rubbing his chin. "Think I need my bed. Do you want anything, 'fore I turn in again? A drink, maybe? Or if you really can't sleep I'm sure the doc would –"

"I'm okay," Becca interrupted. "I'll sit here a while, then I'll go back to my room."

"I've got some books you can borrow, if you like."

"I might take you up on that. But right now I'm fine."

"If you're sure." Hank yawned again, then scratched his chest. "'Night." He wandered back through the top doorway, leaving Becca alone in the cargo bay, fingering the small device she'd taken from one of the crates in her pocket.

---

Next morning Freya was teaching lessons. All the children were around the table, bar Caleb, attempting to concentrate as Maoli and Fiddler tried to distract them by rolling around together under their feet.

"Mama, isn't it time to play yet?" Ethan asked, putting down his pencil. "We've been here _hours_."

"You finish off your word list," his mother said firmly. "Then I'll think about it."

Ethan gazed imploringly at Bethie, who joined in, saying, "But Daddy said we could go help him tidy up."

"Tidy up. Really." Freya looked at the little girl, all bright eyed. "And that's playing, is it?"

"It is the way we do it." Bethie grinned.

Freya had a mental image of what she meant, of the young Doctor Tam running around after the children, laughing as he tried to catch them, and she had to fight not to smile. "Well, right now you're going to do those sums, and then I'll check them. Maybe – and I mean maybe – I'll let you go if they're right."

"But when am I ever going to need how to add up?"

"How are you ever going to fly Serenity if you can't? You need to work out trajectories, distance, ratios …"

"But the computer does that," Bethie pointed out. "And 'sides, I'm gonna be a 'chanic like Momma. I don't need to –"

"Do you think she doesn't know how to work the math to keep our home in the air?"

Bethie opened her mouth, then saw the look on her Aunt's face and had a strong suspicion she wasn't going to win the argument. Sighing hugely she bent back over her pad, stylus gripped tightly between her teeth as she wrestled with the problem in front of her.

Over at the other end of the table, Jesse, Hope and Ben were watching an educational programme on the portable Cortex, playing pat-a-cake with each other as the person on the screen did, counting down from ten to one. As it finished a few minutes later, Ben looked up.

"'tie Frey?" he said. "Done now."

Every little head looked up at her, and the sound from underneath their feet stilled too, as if even the animals were holding their breath.

Freya let her eyes land on each face, each one hoping she'd say they were done for the day. She sighed. "All right. BUT we all have to work harder tomorrow."

"Course, Auntie Frey!" Bethie said, jumping off her chair with more speed than she ever used to get into it for lessons. "Come on!" She ran out of the room, Fiddler barking at her heels. Ethan helped his sister down as Ben and Hope slid to the floor then scooped his grey kitten from under the table, and they followed their 'cousin'.

Freya couldn't help but smile. Sometimes it was so hard to get them to learn anything, then a couple of days later they seemed to absorb everything she put in front of them. Something to do with being on board ship, she decided. And around some very intelligent people, like River, Simon, Mal …

Standing up, she stretched, feeling little muscles in her back popping. Thinking of Mal made her turn to face the corridor to the bridge, and her face softened. He was in their bunk, she knew, doing some figure work of his own on the books, seeing if they were going to be able to get through this if Badger did manage to get out of paying. They had a little saved, but it might make things tight for a while. Kaylee wouldn't be able to have that new pressure hose she was after, and they might be back to eating protein instead of real food. She fingered the silver Firefly at her throat. Might even have to consider selling some stuff.

She shook her head. Time to worry about that when it happened. Right now, though, it was time to do something about the tension she was feeling from knowing Becca was around. She strode out of the galley to the cargo bay, and Jayne's weights.

It annoyed her that she was still feeling emotionally tender, even after Mal's attempts to prove to her over the past couple of nights that she was the only one, that after a lifetime of being an idiot he had chosen her over every other woman in the 'verse. It wasn't that she didn't believe him – she did. It was just having one of those women on board that was the problem. Maybe a little exercise would help, she considered, setting up the weights at something she thought she could handle.

After fifteen minutes she was sweating profusely, and telling herself she was going to ache the next day.

"You don't like me." Becca spoke from where she was standing in the entrance to the common area.

"Am I required to?" Freya didn't turn around, didn't pause as she continued to bench-press.

"No. I suppose not. I don't think I'd take too kindly to someone coming along and telling me they used to sleep with my husband."

Freya's grip on the bar tightened, but she kept up the steady rhythm. "I can't … call you a liar … over that."

"But you'd like to?"

"What … do you think?"

"You know, we could be friends." Becca stepped down to the bay floor. "We do have something in common, after all."

Sliding the bar back into its cradle, Freya sat up, pushing her hands through her wet hair. "I've got nothing in common with you, apart from the fact that we're both female."

"How do I prove to you I don't want to come between you?" Becca held out her hands. "I wouldn't have a chance, even if I tried."

Freya stood, ignoring the sweat sticking her t-shirt to her body. "Whatever Mal was to you, he isn't anymore. He's mine."

"You own him, do you?" There was amusement on Becca's face, but it didn't reach her eyes.

"He's his own man. But he's my man too, and that means something."

"Sure it does." Becca leaned against one of the cages. "You know, when they told me you and Mal had a couple of kids, I couldn't believe it. Never did figure him being a father."

"You really don't know him, do you?" Freya said, picking up the towel she'd left on a nearby crate and wiping herself down a little. "He's an amazing Dad."

"Yeah, I saw that. He was with … is it Ethan?" When Freya didn't respond, Becca went on. "He was telling him a story yesterday. Just something and nothing, but the look on his face …" She shook her head. "He looked so not like the man I knew."

"That's the point, isn't it?"

Becca shrugged, then said, "I would have sworn the oldest girl was yours, though."

"Bethie? Why?"

"I caught her this morning before breakfast, staring at me. She looks at me just the way you do."

"Oh? And how's that?"

"As if you'd rather see me laid out on a marble slab."

"I'm sure she doesn't think that."

"But you do?"

Freya dropped the towel back onto the bench. "Becca, I don't need to. In a couple of days you're getting off, and if I don't see you again, I won't be too upset."

Becca laughed. "Oh, I think Mal's got the one he deserves all right." She walked up the stairs towards the top doorway, still chuckling to herself.

Freya glared after her, watching the other woman's perfectly formed buttocks until they disappeared. "Gorram it," she swore quietly, then shook herself. "Come on, Frey. You know better than this. She's a pain in the _pi gu_ but she's only here for another day or two. You can cope with that." She entertained herself by imagining the various ways she could devise of killing anyone who was slim and blonde, then went back to her exercising.

She started doing lifts from the handholds Jayne had strung up under the catwalk, but her palms were still sweaty, and as she reached the top her fingers slipped. She fell back to the deck, having to flex her knees sharply to absorb the impact. "_Ching wah tsao duh liou mahng_!"

"You shouldn't be doing that without a spotter," Jayne observed, leaning on the shuttle wall and looking down.

"I know." She pushed herself upright.

"She riling you?"

"A little."

"Only a little?" Jayne cracked a smile and nodded towards the barbell. "Ain't seen you with that amount of weight for a while. Last time was when you and Mal were arguing over him getting shot again."

"Well, I've got over that."

"I figured to keep out of the way much as possible, in case I get the urge to stick her in the airlock."

"Join the queue."

"'Sides, I had me a few bad experiences with women like that," the big man went on.

Freya looked up at him. "Oh?"

"And they're staying between me, River and the bedpost."

"Spoilsport." She shook her head, her lips twitching.

That was better, Jayne considered. "So where do you suppose she's off to now?"

Freya picked up her towel again. "Well, since she's poked her nose into just about everywhere but the infirmary and the bridge, and Simon's locked the door …"

Jayne chuckled, a deep rumble that seemed to emanate from somewhere in the region of his crotch. "Well, she ain't gonna get far up there. River's on watch, and she ain't no more fond of that _jien hro_ than her Ma is."

"I'm not her mother, Jayne."

"You tell that to my moonbrain. She might believe you one day."

---

"You forget, don't you?"

River didn't turn, having heard Becca walk quietly up the steps to stand in the bridge doorway. "I don't forget anything," she said.

"I mean space. How big it is. How unchanging."

"I think it's beautiful. And everything changes. It's the nature of life."

"I suppose." Becca looked at the young woman sitting in the pilot's chair, her long dark hair pulled back into a clip shaped like a dragon. At her feet was a sort of bag, with a baby asleep inside. "More kids than a crèche," she murmured to herself.

"What do you want?" River asked, reaching out and making a minor correction on the board.

"To talk."

"What about?"

"Anything you want."

"Well, as I don't want to talk at all …" River left the sentence hanging in the air.

Becca didn't take the hint. Instead she stepped onto the bridge, eyeing the toy dinosaurs still ranged across the console. One or two of them appeared to have teeth marks, but they were clean, like they were dusted regularly. She picked one up, a yellow coloured thing with a long neck and plates standing along its back. "Dinosaurs?"

"Put it down." River spoke quietly, but every word was filled with steel.

"It's just a toy. Who has toys on the bridge? Or do you let the kids play up here?" She turned it over, trying to see if it had a name scratched underneath.

"Put. It. Down." Now there was venom alongside the steel.

"They're just toys," Becca insisted, waving it around.

"You might wanna put that back where you found it," Mal said quietly from the doorway.

Becca turned to look at him. "Why are they up here?" she demanded.

"That ain't none of your affair. But you put the one you're grasping in that hot little hand of yours back, and I'll consider not giving in to my first inclination of shooting you."

She started to laugh, but saw the expression in his eyes, his hand resting lightly on the butt of his gun. "You're serious."

"Don't do as I ask and we'll find out."

They locked stares for a moment, then Becca carefully replaced the stegosaurus. "There," she said, standing up straight. "Happy?"

"Be happier still when you're off my boat."

Becca glared at him, then pushed past him back down the steps.

"Thank you," River said softly.

"No problem." He didn't admit he'd heard Becca go by the bunk, and had been listening to their conversation. He didn't have to.

"I didn't want to hurt her."

"That's okay, _xiao nu_. I think we're pretty much all feeling that way about her."

River let a tiny sigh escape her lips. "Kaylee gets on okay with her."

"That girl'd try to pet a Reaver, if he was tied down." At the look on River's face he grinned. "Okay, well, maybe not. But she tends to see the good side of everyone."

"Is there a good side to Rebecca?"

He chuckled. "Don't go calling her that to her face. She might shoot you, she hates it so much. But yeah, I think there used to be a good side. 'Fore the war. I saw the reflection of it when I met her, took it for the real thing."

She studied his face. "You did love her."

"For a while. But I reckon it was because I was grasping at something I'd lost, desperate to keep hold of anything from my home."

"Then you saw what she was really like."

Mal's eyes narrowed. "You reading me?"

"No." River shook her head, some of her hair coming undone from the clip. "I feel like Freya. Swimming in fog."

"Makes you frustrated, huh?" He gently lifted the lock of hair back, reclipping it. "I know it does to Frey."

"Not able to see. But I dream."

"Anything worth me knowing about?"

"I don't know. None of it makes sense."

Mal smiled. "That's the point about dreams, girl. They never do."

River was about to respond when a beeping drew her attention back to the console. She turned her seat forwards. "There's a ship approaching," she said, her fingers flying over the controls.

"Really?" Mal crossed his arms.

"She's slowing." River's forehead creased. "There's something about her configuration that's familiar …"

"That the case."

She glanced up at him, surprised at his apparent lack of concern. "She's hailing."

"Put her on screen."

The vid shimmered to life, and after a second cleared to show a man in his middle age, a huge grey moustache sitting on his top lip, and two gold teeth glinting in his grin. "Where's that old curmudgeon Malcolm Reynolds?" he demanded.

River couldn't smile much wider. "It's the _Road Runner_!"


	8. Chapter 8

"Burton!" River was almost bouncing in her seat with joy as the captain of the Firefly _Road Runner_ materialised on the screen.

"Young Miss River, you sure are a sight for sore eyes, and prettier than ever." The owner of the gruff and grizzled voice was just as he should be, except that a wide grin split his face under the thick grey moustache.

"It's young Mrs Cobb now, Burton," she corrected, waggling her tattooed ring finger in front of the screen.

"You finally got that poor mountain of a man to marry you?"

"I finally said yes."

"Now, that ain't fair. You know I was just waiting for you to come around to the idea that I was the one you wanted all along."

River was beaming. "And how would Yuki feel about that?"

"She knows ours'd be a fleeting affair. My heart belongs to that _can bao _of a woman." He laughed. "So? Where is the old _kuh-ooh duh lao nao-jurn_?"

"Less of the old," Mal said, moving into range of the screen.

"So I can still call you a curmudgeon?"

"Depends."

"On what?"

"On whether, once Frey's explained exactly what you mean by that, I decide to take offence and shoot you."

Burton Wyatt hooted with laughter. "You ain't changed, you old -"

Mal interrupted. "You might wanna reconsider whatever term of endearment you were about to come out with, Burt. Got sensitive ears here."

"Who, you?"

"No. Caleb." River picked up her sleeping son and turned him so Wyatt could see.

"Looks just like ya, Mal," the older man observed.

"You keep those kinda thoughts to yourself, Burt," Mal advised. "Jayne's got something of a jealous streak."

"He got anything to be jealous over?"

Mal smiled and shook his head. "You ain't changed."

"Why should I? Everyone loves me the way I am."

"That's a matter of opinion." Mal gestured to the main bridge window where he could see the other ship approaching, her retros firing silently. "You okay to dock?"

"Sure thing. Give me a few minutes and you can insult me in person."

---

Mal opened the outer airlock door and leaned on the wall.

"Knock knock," Burton Wyatt said from the other side.

"I don't know. Get all kinds of folk coming around, demanding to waste your time." Mal shook his head. "S'pose you wanna come in?"

"Well, we could do our business here." Wyatt looked around his own airlock. "Be a mite cramped, though, don't you think?"

"I s'pose."

Wyatt drew himself up to his full height, stroking his moustache. "Permission to come aboard, Captain Reynolds?"

"You know, that lip ferret of yours ain't nowhere near as impressive as Monty's," Mal said conversationally, not moving out of the way.

"Just 'cause you can't grow one."

"And spoil my good looks?"

"Hide 'em, be better." He hitched his thumbs into his pants pockets. "You gonna open up or what?"

Mal's lips twitched. "Come on then." He moved back into his ship, letting Wyatt join him in the cargo bay.

They'd known each other a long time, and their sparring was born of common respect and, if forced to admit it by threat of torture, true affection. Wyatt hadn't fought in the war as such, having been recruited under duress to work as engineer on a liner ferrying soldiers to and from the active zone, but as soon as arms were laid down he'd handed in his papers and got his ship back out of mothballs.

Road Runner was a newer Firefly than Serenity by more than a few years, a 05, and Wyatt used what was left of his family money to get her all the upgrades he could afford. He was also more successful, using his charm to get work ex-Browncoats couldn't. They'd met on one such an occasion, shortly after Mal had bought Serenity, when the new captain's wit had deserted him and he was about to have to shelve his ideas of being free forever. Wyatt had bailed him out, sub-contracted as it were, and Mal was able to keep flying a little longer until things got better.

"The old girl don't look too bad, Mal," Wyatt said, peering around approvingly. "We need to keep as many of 'em in the sky as possible."

"Kaylee's the one works wonders. I just give the orders."

"And you do it so well," came a voice from the catwalk.

Wyatt looked up. "Hey, there, Freya. How's things?"

She smiled warmly at him. "Okay. You? Everyone all right?"

He grinned as she came down the stairs. "We're all shiny, just like I was telling your other half." He studied her face. "You look tired, girl."

"A little," she conceded.

Wyatt slapped Mal on the back. "You gotta make her rest more," he said. "'Though I figure keeping up with you ain't all that easy."

"No, you're right about that," Mal said, waiting for the stinging sensation between his shoulder blades to die down a little.

"Burt!" Kaylee ran out of the common area, River close behind. "Cap, you didn't tell us!" She looked reproachfully at Mal as she hugged Wyatt.

"Wanted it to be a surprise, _mei-mei_," Mal explained. "Road Runner's picking up our cargo."

"Hmmn." She wasn't mollified, but turned her smile on the other man instead. "Yuki on board?"

"Course. Where else do you think my wife'd be?" He laughed. "Go on, the pair of you. She's waiting."

Kaylee squealed and ran through the airlock.

"Burton." River kissed the older man's cheek, his whiskers tickling her skin, then followed her best friend.

"You know she's the only one, after my Ma, ever calls me by my full name. Not even Yuki does that," Wyatt said, smiling after her.

"River's a law unto herself," Mal gave as his opinion.

Jayne ambled down the stairs. "Hey there, Burt. You plannin' on runnin' off with my wife?"

"If only she'd let me."

"She'd break you in half 'fore the week was out."

"But what a way to go."

Jayne chuckled as Hank and Simon stepped into the bay from the direction of the infirmary. "Were you intending on keeping our visitors all to yourself?" the pilot asked, hurrying across and shaking hands with Wyatt.

"I just had Kaylee telling me off 'cause I didn't make an announcement," Mal complained. "Ain't having you doing it too. For that you and Jayne can unload."

"What about the doc?" Hank looked at the young man. "He's here too."

"And he's being conspicuously silent. 'Sides, can't risk his hands. Might need him to dig a bullet outta someone." Mal glanced at Freya, seeing her trying to keep a straight face.

"Anyway, Brogan's waiting for him," Wyatt put in. "We got a new analyser he's just aching to show off."

Simon brightened up. "The new Giggenheim?"

"Wouldn't know, doc. That's why I keep my own medic. Means I don't have to wag myself."

"What?"

"Ignore him," Mad advised. "The man's plumb space loco from all the years in the black."

"It seems to be catching," Simon said dryly, eyeing his captain as he walked through into Road Runner.

"I can still change my mind and make you hump cargo," Mal called.

"Come on," Freya said, a snigger in her voice. "I for one need a drink, and I think Zoe's waiting in the galley to find out why you didn't tell everyone too."

"Neither did you," her husband pointed out.

"You're captain. It's not up to me."

Wyatt guffawed. "I just love hearing other married couples argue. Makes me feel Yuki and me are normal." He hooked his arm through Freya's. "You think maybe I could talk you into running away with me instead of young River?"

"You might." She glared at Mal over her shoulder. "I think maybe I could do with a change."

Laughter rang through Serenity's superstructure as they made their way upstairs.

---

"Can I help?" Becca asked, watching Jayne handing a crate to Hank, who passed it through to someone on the other side.

"We got this," the big man said. "Ain't gonna take long."

"Why don't you go find Kaylee?" Hank suggested, wiping at the sweat on his forehead. There hadn't seemed to be nearly as many boxes when the stuff had been loaded. "She's talking to Wyatt's wife somewhere. Prob'ly the engine room." He smiled.

"Okay. As long as you don't think I can help."

"No. You go find the other girls." Hank stood to one side so that Becca could pass him into the other Firefly.

"You think that's a good idea?" Jayne asked, eyeing the departing woman.

"You want her here? Asking more questions?"

"Guess not." He flexed his shoulders. "Just can't help feeling like someone's got me in their cross-hairs, you know?"

"Never having been in anyone's cross-hairs that I'm aware of …" Hank stopped. "But I know what you mean. Still, just a few more hours and she's history."

"Yeah." Jayne still didn't sound convinced.

"Come on. Sooner we get this done, sooner we get ourselves a drink."

The big man stared at him, then nodded, picking up another crate.

---

Mal poured another slug into each of their mugs, then said, "So you heading to Persephone?"

Wyatt shook his head. "Nope. The client wants the transfer to take place in space, so we're headed off to co-ordinates just this side of the Dromor Cluster." The place he was referring to was a group of asteroids, the remains of a small moon that didn't take kindly to being terraformed. Internal forces had torn it apart, but the integral gravimetric force had kept the assemblage orbiting as a cloud of debris.

"We can travel aways together, though."

"Not that long. He's got the hots for the cargo. Soon as we're loaded we're gonna have to get gone."

"Better drink up, then." Mal raised his mug. "To good women," he said sincerely, nodding at Freya and Zoe. "And bad whisky."

"I always thought it'd be better the other way around." Wyatt laughed and took a mouthful.

"Hey, you started without us!" Hank complained, stepping down into the galley, Jayne following behind.

"Not my fault," Wyatt insisted. "Your captain here is attempting to ply me with alcohol so's I won't know just exactly how much money I'm handing over."

"Talking of which …" Mal held out his hand.

"You're a hard man, Reynolds." Wyatt took any sting out of his words with a grin, his gold teeth flashing in the warm light. Reaching into his pocket he withdrew a money pouch, tossing it across.

Mal smiled. "Thank you." He passed it to Zoe then looked at Jayne, even now pouring generous helpings for himself and Hank. "We all done?"

Jayne swallowed half of his mug in one mouthful. "Done. Terry's strapping it all down in Road Runner's hold."

"Good. Glad to see the back of it, truth be told." He glanced at Wyatt. "So how come you're working for Badger now?"

"Could ask you the same thing."

"Necessity," Zoe put in. "We take jobs as we can find them."

"Yeah, but Badger."

"Everyone's making a fuss," Mal muttered. "Long as we get paid, I don't much care who we work for."

Wyatt grinned. "Now, Mal, you know that ain't the truth. You've got morals longer'n most people have legs, and you know you wouldn't work for a weasel like that if you could choose."

"Then you're pretty much answered your own question." He smiled lazily and lifted his mug in salute.

"'Spose I have." Wyatt looked around the table. "Must be bad, then."

"It's not good," Zoe admitted. "There's less and less work out there, honest or not."

"I know what you mean. I guess it's the same reason we're working for that _mao shi_." Wyatt exhaled heavily. "Seems like there's too much talk of something brewing, and people're battening down the hatches."

"Any idea what kind of something that might be?" Mal asked.

"Nope. Don't listen to rumour, painted full of tongues or not." He grinned at the confused look on Mal's face. "Shakespeare," he explained.

"Henry the Fourth," Freya added.

"Who?" Jayne shook his head.

"I know it's Shakespeare," Mal said. "Not that uneducated."

"Never said you were," Wyatt mollified. "But like I said, I don't listen. If I did I'd probably find some little moon somewhere, land, and pull in the dirt over me." He drained his mug. "But maybe I'll keep an ear out for you, if you like. Might hear things you don't, seeing as you're one of the scum of the 'verse, and a Browncoat to boot."

Mal didn't take offence. "That's rich, coming from an Alliance stooge."

"Wasn't my idea." Wyatt grinned. "Damn, Mal, I've missed insulting you."

"Me too, Burt."

Something buzzed, and Wyatt pulled a new-looking comlink out of his pocket. "Yeah?"

"_All ready to go, sir."_

"My wife let those young'uns up for air yet?"

"_Sending them back now with the doc."_

"Then fire her up, and we'll be going." He clicked the unit off and stood up, the others following. "Next time we're gonna have to make sure we get a decent session in, with food and wild women as well."

Mal laughed. "Well, two outta three's not bad."

"Hey, I'm sure we can be wild for you if you like," Freya offered, winking at Wyatt.

"I don't doubt it." He lifted her hand to his lips, tickling her skin with his moustache. "Any time you wanna leave this _chu ju_, you let me know." His eyebrows twitched in his amusement.

"I ain't a daisy!" Mal said in reproach, adding quickly, "And you take your hands off my wife."

"Fancy swapping?"

"No."

"Pity."

---

Ten minutes later Road Runner disengaged her airlock from Serenity, and the two ships parted company.

"You tell Badger I paid you, won't you?" Wyatt said, his face once more on the vid screen.

Ma nodded. "No problem. At least some folks are trustworthy."

"You making disparaging remarks to me again?"

"Not gonna change the habit of a lifetime." Mal suddenly grinned, the smile lighting his whole face. "Better not be as long 'fore we do that session, Burt."

"If you're gonna be around a few days, might be able to do it sooner rather than later."

"Well, my plans are pretty fluid," Mal admitted, watching Road Runner move backwards away from them.

"Then I'll wave soon as we've delivered. See if you're close."

"Sounds good. And tell Yuki I intend for her to cook some of that noodle stew she does."

"I will." Wyatt glanced out of view, nodding to someone else. "Time for us to go."

"Me too. Want to have a chat with Badger, for a start."

Wyatt laughed. "Almost wish I was gonna be a fly on the wall for that little conversation." He leaned forward. "See you in the –" The screen went to static at the same moment as the bridge was washed in light.

Fragments of something began to hit Serenity, bouncing off the windows into a new trajectory, at the same time as a pressure wave pushed at the hull. Hank immediately fired the retros, turning the Firefly's stronger underbelly into the rain of debris.

"What the _diyu_ …" Mal held onto the back of the pilot's chair as the sudden movement overcame artificial gravity for a moment.

Hank frantically pushed buttons, then his hands stilled. "Mal."

"What? What's going on?"

"It's Road Runner. She's gone."


	9. Chapter 9

"What are you talking about?" Mal stared at his pilot.

"Road Runner's gone." Hank was white as a sheet.

"You're not making sense," Mal insisted, although he had a terrible feeling he understood only too well.

"Gone, Mal. Not there anymore."

"Turn us back."

"No, look, if we –"

"Turn us back!" He hardly ever used his Sergeant's voice anymore, so using it now had Hank adjusting Serenity's attitude before the man had a chance to even think about it.

"What's going on, sir?" Zoe asked, coming up the bridge steps, Freya at her back.

The Firefly swung around, facing where Road Runner should be.

"_Wuh duh muh_ …" Mal murmured, licking dry lips.

"Dear God …" Zoe echoed, although Freya couldn't speak at first.

Hank had been nearly right. Road Runner wasn't quite gone, but she was unrecognisable. A spreading debris field fanned out from her midsection, the only part even a little bit whole. Everything else was mangled, blown out by an explosion that had ripped through her.

"No," Freya said, holding onto the wall to stop herself falling.

"Cap, what was that?" Kaylee asked, hurrying along the corridor. "We hit something?"

Mal didn't answer her, instead putting his hand on Hank's shoulder. "Survivors?" he asked, but his voice was bleak.

"I've been … no, Captain."

His face hardened. "Zoe. Prep the suits."

---

"I don't think I can do this, Cap'n," Kaylee said as Zoe fastened her into the space suit. "They were my friends." Tears were running down her face, soaking the thin t-shirt she was wearing beneath.

"Mine too, Kaylee. All of us." Mal pulled on his gloves. "I figure we owe it to them to find out what happened, so that's what we're gonna do, _dong mah_?" He stopped, closed his eyes a moment. Then when he looked at her again they were softer, more gentle. "I know this is bad, _mei-mei_. But you might be the only one can figure out what blew."

"It won't bring 'em back," Jayne pointed out, shrugging his own suit a little more comfortably around his broad shoulders.

"No. But it'll make me feel better."

Freya dropped his helmet over his head even as he heard her voice in his mind. _No, it won't._

He looked at her, allowed all the pain he was feeling to show in his face. He knew it wouldn't help. But he still had to try. She nodded, just a little, and he knew she was giving him all of her vast strength. "Okay, people," he said, turning back to the others even as she completed the checks, his voice sounding tinny in his ears. "Let's do this."

---

She could have done it by herself. Kaylee knew this, even as she pushed off from the open airlock. It was up to her to find what evidence she could as to why Road Runner blew the way it did. Her responsibility to make some sense of the mess ahead of them. The others wouldn't know what they were looking at, let alone be able to decipher the clues. She could have done this on her own.

But she was immeasurably reassured by knowing she was tethered to Mal and Jayne, that Zoe was standing on the ramp keeping a visual eye on them, that Hank and River were on the bridge, every single system working flat out to make sure nothing untoward happened. Even that Freya was with the children, keeping them busy while the others were occupied with their grim task. Knowing that Simon was waiting in the cargo bay to receive any bodies they might find.

"Coming up on the … on Road Runner now," she heard Mal say through the radio. He had only spoken normally, but it sounded so loud in her ears. "Kaylee, you see what you can find that was part of the engine, okay?"

"_Shr ah_." She nodded, even though she knew he couldn't see, and fixed her attention on the area where the core used to be, blinking away her tears.

-

Freya sat on one of the easy chairs in the galley, the children clustered on the floor at her feet. Ben, Hope and Jesse had no real idea what was going on, and were amusing themselves drawing with some of River's bright colours on a pad of paper, Maoli and Fiddler doing their best to interfere. Ethan and Bethie, though, were tense.

"Something's happened to Uncle Burt, hasn't it?" Bethie whispered, leaning against Freya's leg.

She stroked the young girl's hair. "Yes."

"Something bad."

"Something very bad."

"Are they …" She couldn't finish, but covered her mouth up with one hand.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart."

Bethie whimpered, and Freya immediately reached down and lifted her onto her lap. "Hush, hush," she urged. "No need to take on."

"But –"

"We don't want to upset the others, do we?"

Ethan got up and put his chin on his mother's knee. "Did it hurt?" he asked, barely speaking.

"No, honey. It was too quick to hurt." _Dear God, please let me not be lying to them._

"Are they in heaven?"

Freya swallowed and moved along a little so he could scramble up next to her. "Do you think they are?" she asked in turn.

Her son nodded. "Think so." He glanced up towards the hull, and the stars shining through the observation windows above. "With Uncle Wash. And Uncle Book." He'd never met them, but his family still talked about them with love and affection, so he did too. "And Alice," he added quietly.

Freya's arms tightened on both of the children as her throat swelled with emotion. What she believed, what she'd been taught, wasn't conventional religion, but it did espouse continuation of the spirit, of the soul. Mal, on the other hand, had gone through a long period of believing that there was nothing after death, but lately, since they'd had a family, he was more open to the idea that maybe there was something to come after all. She hoped he'd be able to hold onto that right now. "Yes, Ethan," she said, pulling him close. "Me too."

-

Simon watched through the small window in the inner cargo bay door. Zoe had her back to him, holding onto the wall, her concentration on the small figures far out in nothingness. Nothingness, but so much of it. He hated that, being made to feel his insignificance, but he hated more the fact that his wife was out there, and he couldn't help her. He wasn't even sure which one of them was her.

He turned his back, hoping she'd forgive him, and went to find his daughters. He needed to hold onto something real. Someone alive.

-

Hank looked at River sitting next to him, and wondered what she was thinking. She'd taken to Burton Wyatt and his crew from the first moment Mal had introduced them, and found friends amongst them. Only now they were gone. One minute walking and talking, and the next … just gone.

That was something he was never going to get used to, no matter how often it happened. The total fragility of life out here. Mal, Jayne, Freya … hell, even Zoe … they seemed to take it in their stride, and weren't above contributing to it themselves if needed, if called upon to do so. He'd done it himself, killed folks, but he knew it was never going to be easy. It didn't occur to him that was one of the reasons Zoe loved him.

River stiffened next to him, her hands clasping at the armrests, staring out at the remains of the other Firefly.

-

Kaylee reached the first of the larger sections that still remained intact, with difficulty recognising it as part of the exterior bulkhead from the rear of the main cargo bay. Pulling herself along, she moved slowly, taking care not to rip her suit on any of the thousands of tiny points of sharp metal lifted from the surface by the explosion.

"You be careful," Mal said in her ears, and she had to smile a little. A good man, always looking out for them.

"Always careful, Cap'n," she managed to respond, seeing what looked like a piece of manifold just ahead, and reaching out for it.

Something touched her leg, and she glanced down, ready to push it away if it looked as if it was likely to damage … She screamed.

"Kaylee!" Mal, worry breaking through the anger in him. He and Jayne were with her in a moment, pulling her back from the wreckage, checking her suit for any tears or leaks.

She gulped air, trying to calm her racing heart, then pointed down.

"_Kaylee?"_ Hank broke in_. "What is it? Kaylee?"_

"What we expected," Mal answered shortly, putting himself in front of the young woman. "Jayne."

"Gorramit," the ex-mercenary muttered, as if his extensive knowledge of Chinese cursing had finally let him down. He moved forward, reaching towards the remains.

It was a hand, ice-white, ending in ragged flesh and bone just beyond the wrist. Blood had frozen into tight red spheres like an obscene bracelet decorated with living rubies. Dead rubies, now though.

He scooped it into the bag at his waist.

"Kaylee. Kaylee." Mal tried to get her attention. "We knew this was like to happen."

She swallowed, looking at him through the helmet's visor. "I know, Mal."

The anger burned a little hotter in him. She never called him 'Mal' unless she was really upset. He managed to soften his tone. "Got us a job to do, _xiao mei-mei_. Me and Jayne'll take care of this. You do your part, and leave the rest to us."

She pulled herself together. "I seen worse," she said, remembering Corvus, when the Reavers had come.

"That ain't something to be boasting about," Mal reprimanded, and she had to smile.

"Just a shock, is all." She took a deep breath. "Let's get to work."

Mal nodded. "Good girl."

-

"Mama?" Ethan asked, patting her face gently.

Freya blinked. "It's okay."

"Worried." He snuggled closer.

"Nothing for you to worry about," she assured him.

"Not me. You."

She pushed his hair back from his forehead. "I'm okay, _jiao er_." She looked at Bethie. "Did you …"

The little girl shook her head. "Foggy."

Freya relaxed a micron. "Me too." At least they hadn't picked up on what was happening out there.

"Don't like it," Bethie admitted. "Not being able to peek."

"Neither do I. But the measles … I don't know, it did something to us. Blunted us somehow." She sighed. "I can only read your Uncle Mal at the moment, and it's the same for your Auntie River. She can only feel Uncle Jayne." She looked into Bethie's wide brown eyes. "Can you feel anyone?"

"Only Ethan."

Freya smiled sadly. "Sorry about that."

"Hey!" Ethan complained, but yawned too, remembering too late to hide it with his hand.

Jesse sat up, looking from one to the other, her brow furrowed at the obvious tension. "Mama? Story?" she suggested.

"A story." Freya pursed her lips. "Okay. I think I can remember one. But you all have to close your eyes, _dong mah_? Close your eyes and just listen to my voice." She waited until they had complied. "Once upon a time, so very long ago and far, far away, a princess lived in a tall tower. Her only friends were the birds of the air and the small mice who came to visit at night, feeding on the crumbs she left out for them …"

-

Mal slid another … piece into the bag, half his attention on Jayne doing the same task, and half on Kaylee as she collected metal bits of her own. On the edge of his mind, though, almost like the glow of a far dawn, was his wife's voice, telling a story about princes and first kisses, and he let it warm him as he continued with his grisly task.

It wasn't the first time he'd had experience of this kind of thing. His first CO, a bastard by the name of Prentice, had thought collecting body parts after a particularly vicious artillery barrage would put spines into his new recruits, stiffen their resolve. All it did was make them throw up, and he'd gone on for days about the weakness of the volunteers. Mal had been one of them, losing what little he'd been able to force down in the way of food, but not wanting to give Prentice the satisfaction of giving in to the urge to run and hide. His small group had been the last to come back, but had done most of the work, handing over full body bags to the burial detail. He'd gained a stripe for that, although it hadn't lasted. Never could keep his mouth shut.

At least these remains were hard, frozen in the cold of space, more like fragments of marble statues than flesh. Except this flesh used to be his friends, friends he'd been talking to not an hour previously. Mal's face tightened inside the helmet. Wyatt always operated the same way, same number of crew, which meant there were eleven other people on board when _Road Runner_ blew. A dozen lives snuffed out in an instant. He could feel the rage burning cold in his belly.

-

Jayne wasn't thinking, at least not consciously. He'd killed too many people in his life to let body parts affect him, unless Reavers had messed with them, but even he knew the only way to get through this was to pretend it was something else, and get on with the job. He'd liked them, this weird crew, from Burton down to … well, all of them. They accepted him as he was, didn't try to make him out to be anything more than he could be, and that made them okay in his book.

He turned around, checking once more to see if there was anything he'd missed, but he couldn't tell. Might be, might not. But something that had torn apart a Firefly like this, made so much of it just a heap of crumpled metal … he was surprised they'd found what they had.

He exhaled heavily.

_Zhang fu?_

_Yeah, moonbrain?_

_Say a prayer._

He nodded, his eyes closing, remembering one from his childhood. "Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep …"

Kaylee heard the softly spoken words and packed the last of the bits of twisted engine into her pack. They might not be appropriate, but they made her heart keen in her chest, and fresh tears rolled down her cheek.

As Jayne finished, they all heard Zoe whisper, "Amen."

-

Simon leaned in the doorway of the galley, watching the children sleeping. "How did you do that?" he murmured.

Freya half-smiled at him. "Not sure."

"If I were a betting man, I'd say you'd hypnotised them."

"I just told them a story."

"Just?"

"It was something my mentor used to do. When he first found me I was … uncontrollable. The only way he could get me to sleep at all was by talking, telling me stories, poems, anything. Eventually I'd find his voice calming and I'd relax enough to doze."

Simon looked at her shrewdly. "You miss him, don't you?"

She nodded. "So much. He was my father, in every way if not in blood. Gave me my life back." She glanced down at Ethan wedged against her, at Jesse wrapped around her feet, fingers buried in Fiddler's fur.

"I know what you mean."

"I so wish he was here. He might –" Suddenly the words froze in her throat. "They're back."

-

The cargo bay shuddered as the outer doors closed, then the pressure equalised. Kaylee could feel her weight return, and the pack in her arms now dragged her down until she was squatting on the floor.

"You okay?" Zoe asked, taking off her helmet.

"Heavy," she said.

"I'll give you a hand."

Between them they climbed out of their suits, then the carried the engine parts through the common area. Simon, standing on the top of the catwalk, watched them go, before hurrying down the stairs to the airlock. Mal and Jayne had hung back, letting Zoe take the young mechanic away before they completed their own part of the mission.

Helping remove their helmets, Simon looked into the other men's faces. "Bad?" he asked.

"Not good," Mal agreed.

Simon opened the lead-lined crate he'd prepared, and Jayne put his bag inside. "Is it worth –"

The big man shook his head. "Can't tell who they were, doc. Not even enough for a body, least not all of one." He glanced at Mal. "What're you planning on doin' with 'em?"

"We're going to give them a proper burial," Mal said firmly, undoing the bag from his waist and setting it inside the box.

"Prom?"

Mal nodded. "Prom. Reckon they'll be in good company there," he added, seeing the small headstone on Prometheus in his mind's eye that marked the grave of his unborn daughter, and the larger that was for Jethro.

"And the rest?" Jayne looked back towards the remnants of Road Runner.

"Nothing else we can do for 'em right now, except wait to see what Kaylee comes up with." Mal closed the lid on the crate. "Where are you gonna put this?"

"Cold storage. If we're longer than a few days, I'll have to think of something else."

Serenity's captain pulled off his gloves. "Let me know if you need to use the airlock. We can put up with it being cold for a while."

Simon nodded, his eyes thoughtful. "It might have been an accident, you know," he pointed out.

"Might." Mal spoke into his suit mike. "Hank, can we make the Dromor Cluster in time?"

"_Nope. Sorry, Mal. Even at full burn we'd be more'n half a day late. Road Runner is … was faster than us."_

"Then I think it's best we be on our way to Persephone. I got me a Badger I want to talk to."

In her room in the guest quarters, Becca lay on the bed, her head resting on her clasped hands, her ankles crossed, whistling tunelessly.


	10. Chapter 10

"Kaylee?"

"What?"

"Can I come in?"

"If you want."

River ducked her head under the doorway and walked into the engine room. Kaylee was sitting in her hammock, her legs drawn up under her, staring at a piece of the metal she'd brought back from the remains of Road Runner. Her work bench was strewn with more bits, engine parts that had been eviscerated and damaged beyond almost all recognition.

"Are you sure?" the young psychic said.

"'Bout what?"

"That it was an accident."

"Ain't said yet." She sniffed hard, wiping at her nose with the back of her hand and leaving a stain of grease on her skin.

"But you're going to."

Kaylee's eyes narrowed. She knew, like the rest of them, that her sister-in-law's abilities weren't up to full strength because of the measles she'd had, but this … "You reading me?"

River shook her head. "Not really. But there's a shape to the fog, edges, and I can guess at its meaning."

"I don't understand."

"You're going to tell Mal it was an accident," River said softly.

"Nothing to say otherwise, least that I can see." She didn't have any more tears left to cry, but that didn't stop the lump in her throat. "There ain't enough left of anything to work with, that'd tell me anything at all, so … Just a big old explosion that tore her apart."

"Are you sure?" River took the object from Kaylee's unresisting fingers, and gasped at the shock that ran up her arms like electricity, tightening her jaw, splitting into her brain.

"River?" Kaylee looked up in alarm.

"I … Kaylee, are you sure?"

"No, I ain't sure!" She felt a flash of anger burn through her. "But don't you think I'd say if I thought it was deliberate?"

"I …" River couldn't speak, the blood draining from her face. Images, piling one on another: Burton on the bridge, Yuki in the galley, Terry, Brogan, McFee … on and on and all screaming soundlessly.

"Are you okay?"

"I … no …" She held out the lump of metal, not physically capable of letting go, feeling the phantom heat bonding it to her skin.

The young mechanic pried it from her fingers, turning it over and over in her hands even as River was able to breathe again. "You think it's different," she whispered. "Seein' something."

River nodded slowly. "A bomb."

"A –"

"I can taste it. The fragments. The last memories of those that were murdered. Seeing the explosion in the microsecond before death …" She stared into the spinning heart of Serenity and trembled.

"You mean someone did do that on purpose?"

"Yes."

Kaylee couldn't have looked more horrified. "But how could they?"

"Can you prove it?" River asked instead. "Tell if I'm right?"

"I … I don't know." Kaylee stood up. "I got a lot of bits, like I said, but nothing that'd be from a bomb. They're just bits of engine. And to do that to a Firefly, blow it up like that …"

"There has to be some way."

"Maybe I can get Simon to help me analyse any residue on them, see if …" She swallowed hard. "But why would anyone wanna kill Burt? I mean, Yuki and Terry and –" She was about to burst into tears again.

River put her hand on her shoulder. "We have to find out."

---

Freya was finally asleep. Mal had hold of her, lying on their bunk, and he'd done his best to make her rest. He knew she'd seen through his eyes, knew she could deal with it as well as Jayne or Zoe, but wished she hadn't had to. She was his _wife_, and even though she'd called him old-fashioned, got angry with him about it, he felt in his heart he should be able to protect her from that.

They'd talked for what seemed like hours …

"It's coincidence, Frey," he'd said, wrapping her in his arms and pulling her closer. "You know what I think about coincidence."

"About as much as you think of luck."

"Damn straight." He blew the air out of his lungs in a long, slow breath. "I wish you could see, _ai ren_. Tell me what happened, who … anything."

"I'm sorry, Mal. I keep trying, but there's nothing." She shuddered, pulling back from the grey fog that surrounded her mentally.

"It's okay," he reassured her. "I know you're doing your best."

"Except my best isn't good enough."

"Then we're gonna have to rely on good old intuition and detective work." He glanced down at her. "I'm not gonna let this go, Frey. Not gonna walk from it, let someone get away with murder."

"You wouldn't be the man I married if you did," she murmured, resting her chin on his chest so she could look into his blue eyes. "What are you planning on?"

"Got me some thoughts on the matter …"

They discussed options for some time, argued for a while, but eventually her breathing had evened out and she dozed, her eyelashes twitching occasionally as he watched. He hoped they were better dreams than he knew he was going to have in the days to come, and prayed his nightmares wouldn't wake her.

The sound of the hatch opening made him stiffen.

"Captain." It was River, for once being circumspect and not just dropping in.

"Gorramit." Mal glanced at Freya as she lifted her head. "Sorry, sweetheart."

"No problem." She smiled tiredly for him, stifling a yawn.

He called, somewhat cantankerously, "What? What is it?"

"There's something I have to tell you."

"Something?"

"About Road Runner."

Mal pushed himself around so he was sitting up. "You'd better come down."

---

River and Kaylee stood at the foot of the table, looking at the crew assembled there. Even Becca was in the galley, sitting in one of the easy chairs. Only the children were absent, down in Bethie's room. This wasn't for their ears.

"What's going on?" Hank asked, glancing between the young women.

"Can't be as bad as what we've just had to do," Jayne put in, leaning his chair back at an alarming angle.

River glanced at Mal, who said, "Go ahead. It's your party."

She nodded slowly, then said, quietly but distinctly, "It wasn't an accident."

"What?" Jayne's chair hit the floor.

"Road Runner. It wasn't an accident."

Mal exchanged a fleeting look with Zoe, knowing the barely controlled rage on her dark face was reflected in his eyes. "Best explain it to the rest of 'em, Kaylee."

The young mechanic took a deep breath. "I thought it was an accident. They happen, cores blow 'cause of bad maintenance, that kinda thing." She held up a piece of metal, twisted out of all recognition. "It looked like the containment blew, mainly 'cause of this. It's the central convertor. Takes a lot to break one of these. Serenity's never has, but if it did it'd mean a total engine refit." She looked down unhappily. "And this is torn apart. 'Cept if it was the containment, there'd've been some warning. Even if they didn't know what had happened, it wouldn't've …" She lifted her chin, in defiance of her feelings. "I wasn't thinking straight, but after River and me spoke, I had another go. And it started not to make sense. Things that should've been vaporised weren't, and stuff like this that should've stayed whole, got damaged." She stopped, looked at Simon.

"I ran some tests," he said quietly. "Swabbed some of the fragments that Kaylee gave me and ran them through the analyser." He paused, but it wasn't for effect – it was to gather himself. "There was trace on dozens of pieces. Dettonex."

Jayne sat forward. "That ain't legal."

"It doesn't stop people using it."

Hank looked between them. "Dettonex? Are we supposed to know what that is?"

"It's an explosive," Zoe explained, having to consciously control her breathing. "Incredibly powerful. A brick the size of my fist could blow us to hell."

"How come I've never heard of it, then?"

"It's the main destructive element of the Aurora mine."

Hank's face twisted into disgust. "_Cao_." For a moment he was back in the war, hurrying to catch up with his comrades walking fifty yards in front of him, casually crossing an open space that they'd been told had been cleared by the sweepers. Next thing he remembered was waking up in the medtent, his blood-soaked clothing being cut off as the doctors worked frantically to find out where he was wounded, only to realise it was all that was left of his friends. "The Independents used …" He swallowed hard, then got up and strode to the cupboards, reaching up into the highest and taking out Jayne's whisky. He poured half a mugful and downed it in one.

"Might be a good idea to bring that back to the table," the big man suggested. "Think we might be all needing one."

Hank nodded, dropping a handful of mugs onto the old wood, then refilling his own. He carefully didn't look at his wife.

"We ain't proud of it, Hank," Zoe said softly. "I can only say the Captain did what he could to stop 'em laying the damn things, but it was war."

"I know." Hank pushed the memories back under the surface, watching Jayne pour alcohol for everyone. "Any idea where it was? On the Road Runner?"

"The cargo," Mal said shortly. "I figure it was in one of those crates we picked up."

Zoe turned dark eyes on him. "But that means … us or them?" She leaned on the table, glaring at him. "Sir. Us or them?"

"Neither. Kendrick."

Freya's head whipped up.

"Who?" Hank looked confused again. "Who the hell is Kendrick?"

"Badger's client. The _hwoon dahn_ those crates were meant for." Mal leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.

"I don't understand."

"Neither do I," Freya said, her voice dangerously quiet. "What does Anton Kendrick have to do with this?"

"We were late," Mal said, not answering her. "Near a week. If Badger'd got our cash we'd've offloaded and been gone. We'd never've known."

"A timer?" Zoe asked quietly.

"I guess."

"But there weren't –" Kaylee stopped at Mal's look, confused. She'd told River there was no sign of any such device, but he was acting like … She didn't understand.

Zoe took a deep breath. "You don't have a choice anymore, sir. You have to tell everyone."

"Tell everyone what?" Freya demanded. "Mal, what the hell is going on?"

Becca interrupted. "Oh, this is too good. You mean they don't know?" She got up from her chair and gazed at him. "That big piece of your life and you haven't told them?" She gave a burst of laughter. "Mal, you're a _hoe-tse de pigu_."

"_Bizui_."

"No. I'm not going shut up just because you –"

"Enough!" Mal was on his feet, hands in fists on the table. "You don't get to do that. Not now. Not ever again."

"You can say what you like. Still doesn't mean you're going to be able to brush this back under the carpet, my darling." She put her hands on her hips. "Not now." She was smirking.

Mal wanted to wipe it off her face, put her down until she was crawling, but he knew he couldn't. Not yet.

"Sir." Zoe looked at him. "I hate to admit it, but she's right."

"Gorramit." He closed his eyes momentarily, then looked around at his crew, the varying expressions on their faces. He lingered on Freya, and apologised wordlessly. "Badger let slip who his client was, said he didn't like folks that wore brown. He was right. Anton Kendrick was Alliance. High up, too, something like a major-general by the time the war ended."

"But the war's over," Simon said softly. "You keep telling us that."

"Maybe I do. But for some maybe it ain't." Mal exhaled loudly. "And Kendrick had a hand in the worst atrocity of it."

Simon's jaw dropped. "You don't mean –"

Mal nodded slowly. "It was his plan. He was the one decided to make an example. Got together the experts, everything he needed. Decided which planet was the one gonna be that example. My home, Simon. Shadow." He swallowed, trying to clear the lump in his throat. "Everyone knew about the scorching. The guards were more'n happy to rub it into our faces." He knew he sounded bitter, but it was too deep, too ingrained to be anything else.

"Mal, I –"

He wasn't listening. "Soon as I got out of the disbursement camp they approached me. Never did know their names, but they told me who had ordered it. Asked if I wanted to make it right. Handed me the place he was gonna be, gave me a gun, set me loose."

There was no sound in the dining area. Not even Serenity seemed to be breathing. Zoe was sitting staring at nothing, but all other eyes were on Mal.

"You were a dust devil?" Hank asked, almost in disbelief.

"No. But then, neither were they. Just some men who'd been left empty by the war, and wanted to feel something again, even if it was only hate."

"That's not you, Cap'n," Kaylee put in.

"No?" He gave her half a sad smile. "When I wanted to kill him so badly? He'd destroyed my home, taken everything I held to be right and just and trampled it into the dirt." He barked a hollow laugh. "Every little bit of hate and resentment I felt at those purple-bellied bastards I laid on him." He stopped.

"What happened?" Simon asked when Mal had been silent for a few seconds.

"I went hunting. They were right. He was there, and he was waiting. Knew someone was gonna be coming for him, just didn't know who. And I looked at him, in that armchair, his eyes begging me to shoot him, and … I couldn't."

"Why not?" Jayne stirred in his seat. "Just pull the trigger."

"Because it would've been murder." Mal sat down again. "And maybe I realised he was only a soldier. Least, that's why I didn't kill him at that moment." Clasping his hands tightly together in front of him on the old wood, he tried to stop the trembling that was trying to break out. "Can't say I didn't want to. I did. I wanted to blow off his kneecaps, his elbows, and while he was screaming from the pain I wanted to gouge out his eyes."

"But you didn't," Kaylee whispered, hoping as hard as she could.

"No, _mei-mei_, I didn't. I still wonder why I didn't just shoot him from the doorway, get it over with, but I let him talk instead."

"Talk?"

"He apologised. Asked where I was from, and apologised. Said he knew it was the wrong thing to do, and that he wished with all his heart that he'd never signed the damn order, never come up with the plan." His eyes unfocused as he looked back all those years. "Can't've been much older'n I am now, yet he'd slaughtered so many …" Mal swallowed hard. "He said, if I wasn't gonna kill him right there, then maybe I'd let him explain. Something like being a confessor. Told him, I didn't believe anymore, but he said that was all right. It wasn't the belief that was important. Just the listening." He could still hear the man's voice, aching with pain, almost begging to be understood. Almost begging to die. "Talked 'til the sun came up, and by then I couldn't kill him. Pitied him, yes. But couldn't kill him."

"You left him?" Hank asked.

"Yeah." Mal took a deep breath. "Alive and kicking."

"A good man." River's voice surprised them all.

"Can't say he was that –"

"Not him. You."

He looked at her, as much trust and love on her face as he had ever seen. "Nope, _xiao nu_. Not me either."

"Course you are," Kaylee agreed. "Couldn't murder him. Not even then."

"So you let him walk," Becca said scornfully. "The man who'd taken your life, and you let him live."

"Not your decision." Mal stared at her.

"I would've ripped his heart out."

"Except they didn't ask you."

"They should have! I was willing, I'd have left him in pieces!"

"So you told me. In gruesome detail." He leaned back in his chair. "Saw the real you that night."

"And I saw the coward inside the man."

They glared at each other as the rest of the crew watched, growing more uncomfortable by the moment. Now they understood the real reason Mal had left this woman.

"But what now?" Simon finally asked. "If Kendrick was the target, are you going to warn him?"

Mal tore his eyes away from Becca, surprised. "Why should I do that?"

"Well, because we're heading for Persephone. And Badger."

"Maybe I want to finish what I started."

"No, that's not –" "You can't mean –" "It's nothing to joke –" Voices overlaid, until …

"Mal, that would be murder." Freya spoke for the first time.

"You saw, Frey. You saw what was left of Road Runner. Of our friends. He's responsible."

"He didn't blow her up."

"No, but he was the real target. They just got in the way."

Disgust warred with amazement on her face as she stood up slowly. "So this is it?" Freya stared down at him. "Your grand plan? Make Badger give you Kendrick's transponder code and you go kill him?"

"Not kill. Talk. Find out who wants him dead and why. Then go kill them."

"Mal, that's crazy!"

He was on his feet in a moment. "You want Burt and the others to go into the night without someone doing something?" He crossed his arms, a barrier between them.

"Cap'n –" Kaylee began, her manner more than nervous, but Freya interrupted.

"Of course I want to know why. But this isn't the way. We don't just go barging in. We talk to people, ask questions."

"That's what I'm gonna do with Badger," Mal said obstinately.

"And then waltz off to Kendrick, and probably get yourself killed!" Her voice was rising, as was the colour in her cheeks. "You know what Badger said, what Burt said … Kendrick hates Browncoats, won't deal with them. He's just as likely to shoot you first, and never bother to find out why you were there!" She took a deep breath and touched his arm. "Mal, this is irrational."

He pulled away. "I think you might want to reconsider that remark. If you're insinuating I ain't in my right mind –"

"It's because of Shadow. I understand that. I've heard of Kendrick; hell, everyone in the camps did. But Mal, this man … if you're right then there's too many others might be wanting him dead. He won't know which one destroyed Road Runner. And you might get hurt. Leave it."

He glared at her. "You telling me what to do again, Frey? On my own ship?"

"Better than you not telling me anything!" she shot back.

"What, you bleating again because I didn't tell you about Kendrick now? You think you got the right to know every little detail of my life 'fore I met you?"

"Some of it would be nice!"

"Mal, this isn't –" Simon tried to get between them, but he was pushed aside.

Becca stood back, surveying the argument, her lips twisted into a fierce smile.

"And I've told you it ain't."

"You're obsessed!" She stepped closer, feeling the heat from him burning into her. "And you just want an excuse to go and finish what you started."

"You don't know what you're talking about." He'd dropped his voice, almost too low for her to hear.

"Don't I? Me? Of all people? _I_ don't know?"

"Drop it, Frey."

"No, I won't. You're going to get yourself killed, Mal. Please, don't do this."

"I have to."

"You are so rutting stubborn!" Anger was now winning the battle. "You've got these gorram blinkers on, and you won't see anything else. Someone did something you don't like, and now you're getting into the middle of something you can't control. For God's sake, Mal, think. You're a family man now."

"That old one?" he scoffed. "And I am thinking, Frey. Maybe clearer than I have been all along."

"And it doesn't matter to you if you die? If we lose you?"

"I'm gonna avenge everyone on Road Runner. You don't like it, well, that's your problem. And if it happens, it happens."

She stepped back. "Then we won't be around to see it. This is the last straw. You've lied to me for the last time. I'm not going to stay here and watch you bleed out in the infirmary, Mal. Or be told you're lying somewhere with your throat cut. I'm taking the kids so they don't see you commit suicide. We're leaving. As soon as we touch down on Persephone I'll contact Dillon, maybe he can arrange somewhere for us to go." She looked into his blue, icy eyes. "We won't be back."

"If you think I'm gonna let you take Ethan and Jesse away from me –"

"Try and stop me."

He stared for a moment, then let loose and slapped her, palm open across her cheek. "_Puo foo_."

She didn't move, didn't flinch, ignoring the small trickle of blood from a split lip. "Well, that makes it easier." She turned and walked away, not even glancing back.

The others were in shock.

"Cap'n –" Kaylee began, but he cut her off short.

"Any else of you feel like leaving, go ahead. I got me a job to do." He strode off in the opposite direction.


	11. Chapter 11

The others stared at each other.

"What the hell just happened?" Jayne demanded, looking to his wife, who gazed calmly back.

"All married couples argue," she said quietly.

"Yeah, but not like that. She's said she's leaving him."

"I know."

Simon had his arms around Kaylee, who was trying hard not to cry. "It's okay, _bao bei_," he said, stroking her back. "I'm sure she didn't mean it. It's okay."

"No, it's not. If'n I hadn't said, if I'd just –"

"Had to tell the truth," River interrupted. "Tell the truth and shame the devil."

"Moonbrain," Jayne said gently, but it wasn't a rebuke.

"Well, I for one think Mal's finally seeing the light," Becca said, shaking her long blonde hair so it fell like a pale waterfall from her shoulders.

"No-one asked your opinion," the big man warned. "And far as I can see, you're the cause of all this. Nothing happened 'til you set your _pi gu_ on board."

"Really? I'd say what we just saw was bound to happen. Mal keeps secrets. And the thing about secrets is that they're usually pretty rancid by the time they hit the light of day." She smiled sweetly at them all and walked out, her hands thrust into her borrowed pants pockets.

"Mal should've let you space her when you suggested it," Hank muttered, turning to his wife. "And where were you, honey? When all that _gou shi_ was hitting the fan back then?"

"With Mal. Only he wouldn't let me go with him." She shook her head. "I don't think he expected to come back, and he wasn't going to let me get myself killed too."

"You mean he –"

"You weren't there, Hank. After Serenity Valley, then the camps, he had nothing. He wasn't even Mal any more, no matter what we …" She took a deep breath. "Right then, at that moment, I don't think he'd've minded someone putting a bullet in his brain."

"But he got over it. I mean, he did, didn't he?"

"Got better at hiding it, maybe. For a long while. A long gorram while."

"'Til he bought this boat?"

"Longer'n that. Sometimes I've wondered if it wasn't Miranda that made him truly realise there was something worth fighting for."

Hank was shocked. "You can't be serious."

"He was hurting. Hollowed him out. It takes a lot to fill a man back up, but at least he was trying."

"You mean you and Kaylee, Wash, the rest of the crew?"

"Mmn."

Hank exhaled heavily. "Then I'm thinking we need to do something to stop this."

"Maybe."

"Maybe?" He stared at her. "Freya's going to leave and you say maybe?"

"It's not our business, Hank."

"But we gotta do something," Kaylee said, swallowing thickly. "You know they ain't no good without each other. I mean, they're Mal and Freya ... they're meant to be together."

Zoe looked at her, then saw, from the corner of her eye, River nodding slowly. "I'll talk to him," she said finally.

"Good. Good." Kaylee leaned against Simon for support.

---

The black was how it always was, even before it was splintered with the remains of the Road Runner. However, the closer they got to Persephone the more Mal could feel his anger settling into a throbbing ball in the pit of his stomach. He recognised it, knew it of old, welcomed it like finding a favourite old pair of slippers that had been lying forgotten at the back of the closet. He'd made use of it before, when they were fighting and he'd believed they could win, and later, when he knew they'd lost but he had to keep the few men he had left alive.

Then Miranda. He'd used it then, holding it close as he told the others_, "I aim to misbehave,"_ and when he'd brought the Reavers out of the ion cloud above Mr Universe's moon, and dealt vengeance on an Alliance fleet that was sent to kill him. Crossing the walkway from the Cortex link, where he'd just broadwaved to the 'verse, back towards where he believed his family were lying dead, he wondered why he hadn't used it to kill the Operative. Still did, in the small hours, or times like now, when he just stared out at the stars.

"Sir, what's going on?" Zoe asked, stepping onto the bridge and closing the door.

"Why do you think there's anything?"

"Because in all the years I've known you, all the crap you've pulled, this has to be the worst."

He raised one eyebrow at her. "That how you talk to your Captain?"

"When he's behaving like a _diao wan_ _luo zi_, yes, pretty much."

"Could court martial you for that."

"I'm not your Corporal anymore."

"No, but you're my first mate. Don't that mean you're supposed to be on my side?"

She lowered herself into the co-pilot's seat. "Possibly, but that would mean you enlightening me as to the nature of that side, sir."

He gazed at her for a long moment, then put his head back. "Not sure I can, Zoe."

"How about starting with you and Freya? You've fought before. Hell, I've had to clear up the debris after more than one of your shouting matches in the kitchen. And we don't have that many breakables left, by the way."

"I'll put it on the list to buy some more."

She didn't rise to his dry manner. "But I've never seen her threaten to leave you."

"She's not threatening, Zoe."

She felt a thrill of something race up her spine. "Are you saying this was for real? That's she's actually going to –"

"Leave it."

Normally that tone would mean she pulled herself up, acknowledged he was the captain, and walked away. Normally. "No, sir. Something's going on here, and I think I need to know what it is."

"She's already called Dillon, did you know that?" Mal wasn't looking at her, just staring out through the window. "Told him to send Callum to pick her and the kids up."

"Mal. Look at me."

He was so surprised that she used his given name that he turned without thinking. "Zoe –"

"There ain't no way in hell she's leaving you. No matter what little scene you two played out there, you'd have to kill her first to make her go. Tell me what's going on."

He gazed at her, his face calculating, and she could have sworn he was about to speak, to explain, then his eyes hooded once more. "Nothing to tell, Zoe," he said, facing away again. "She's leaving, and that's all."

"Sir, I've locked the door. I'm armed." She touched the Mare's Leg she hadn't taken off since Becca came on board. "And added to that I'm severely pissed. What do you think your chances are of getting out of here without blood being shed?"

The anger in his belly threatened to flare up, but he damped it back down. Not that he didn't believe her – he did. He'd seen what she could do. "You sure it's locked?" he asked.

"Yes, sir."

His lips twitched. "See, I like that in you, Zoe. Even while you're threatening me, you're still calling me sir."

"And getting more pissed as we speak."

"They were my friends."

She wasn't phased by his apparent non-sequitur. "Mine too. All of us."

"I wasn't lying when I said I wasn't going to let this go."

"I know." She waited, knowing he was at last going to explain.

He took a breath, holding it for what seemed an eternity before blowing it out through pursed lips. "Someone's going to pay, Zoe," he said quietly, and she shivered as she recognised the look on his face.

---

As Hank dropped through the clouds towards Eavesdown Docks he wondered at all the things that had happened since they'd left. Barely a week, and yet he could hardly get his head around it all. The job on Claymore, Becca, Road Runner … it didn't seem possible that it could all be fitted into seven days. And now there was Persephone, laid out like a display of grubby jewels beneath them, and their family was splitting up.

He'd tried to speak to Freya, tell her Mal didn't mean what he'd said, that if she just waited it would all work itself out.

"Don't leave," he'd said, stopping her pouring a mug of coffee. "We need you."

She looked at him, put her hand on his and squeezed gently, but said, "It's in motion, Hank. Can't stop it now."

"That don't make sense." He shook his untidy head. "All you gotta do is say no. Tell him you're staying. Hell, shoot him if you have to. Look, I'll go get your gun. Flesh wound. Something non-fatal. I'll even hold him down."

She'd smiled sadly at him, but walked out of the galley.

"If she's made up her mind there's no changing it," Becca said from the depths of the easy chair.

"You're just annoyed because he left you," Hank shot back, striding back towards the bridge, her laughter following him.

And now as he settled Serenity into her dock, he sighed heavily. No matter how many conversations he had with Zoe, how many times she'd told him, he couldn't get it out of his head that something bad was about to happen.

"We down?" Mal asked from behind him.

"That we are. You want me to let Freya know?"

"She already does."

"Are you … going to say goodbye?"

"Nothing to say, Hank."

"Then do you mind if I …"

"Go ahead." Mal sank into the co-pilot's chair. "Just 'cause me and Frey got problems, don't mean you can't stay friends."

"Mal, can't you –"

"You'll miss her if you don't go now."

"No. I mean, yes." He stood up and backed towards the door. "You could still –"

"Go, Hank. And close the door on your way out."

---

Kaylee dropped through the hatch and climbed down the ladder. Freya was packing a small bag, stuffing pants and shirts inside without folding.

"They'll be all creased," the young mechanic said, her normally bright disposition submerged under a heavy cloud.

"They'll be fine." Freya gave her a brief smile. "Where's Ethan?"

"In with Bethie. They're … saying goodbye." She wiped her nose on the back of her hand, the resemblance to her daughter quite striking. "Frey –"

"Could you bring Jesse for me?" Freya asked, zipping up the holdall. "I don't have a free hand."

"Uh, sure." Kaylee turned to the little girl sitting on the floor, playing with one of her dolls. "C'mon, sweetpea."

Jesse smiled and held out her arms. "'Ntie Kaylee."

"That's right." She lifted her up onto her hip. "Hey, you're getting heavy."

Jesse laughed, snuggling into her shoulder as they manoeuvred up the ladder.

"Where's Mal?" Freya asked, adjusting the bag on her shoulder as they headed for the galley.

"On the bridge." She glanced back to the closed door. "You sure you don't want to –"

"No." She crossed the kitchen, passing Becca who was standing pouring a coffee.

"So you're off?" the blonde asked, not terribly surprised when Freya ignored her. "'Bye, then. And don't worry. I'll take care of Mal for you," she called.

"That _chou ti zi_," Kaylee muttered. "She should be the one leaving, not you."

"It's okay," Freya said quietly. "Let's just get Ethan."

---

Hank was standing by Zoe as she pressed the button to open up the bay doors, his hand on her waist. As the light of Persephone filtered in, he could feel her muscles tightening, as if ready to do battle. "Zo …"

"It's okay," she murmured, watching the outer ramp lower.

There was a hovercar waiting, a tall man with a polished bald head by the open door. He bowed slightly. "Ma'am."

"Callum."

"Is Miss Freya ready?"

"Just coming," the woman herself said, walking out of the common area doorway, Jesse on her hip and Ethan dragging his feet next to her. Kaylee and Simon were only a few steps behind.

Callum darted into the cargo bay, taking the bag from Freya's hand. "Let me."

"Thank you," she said. "If you'd put Ethan into the hover …"

"Of course, Ma'am."

She let the corner of her mouth lift. "How long have I known you?" she asked. "And are you ever going to call me Freya?"

"I'll consider it, Ma'am."

Freya shook her head, then looked down at her son, holding tight to her leg. "Go with Callum, sweetie."

"Do I have to?"

"Please, Ethan. Remember, we talked about this."

"Okay, Mama," he said in a resigned tone, letting Callum take his hand and lead him out into Persephone's heat, looking lovingly over his shoulder all the time at his home.

"I'll send for the rest of our stuff, Zoe." Freya watched as Ethan climbed into the vehicle.

"If you think that's best."

"Zoe, right now I don't know what's rutting best, but …" She stopped, setting her lips into a tight line. "Try and keep him alive."

"You don't have to do this."

"I think I do."

"He'll come round eventually."

"That will probably be too late." There was pain in her voice, and Jesse tightened her grip around her neck.

Zoe looked at them both, Freya determined, and the little girl's wide brown eyes confused. "Stay in touch," she ordered quietly, squeezing her friend's arm.

"I will."

"Frey …" Hank surprised her by pulling her into his arms and hugging her, not trusting his voice, and she let him. Then she pushed him back, gathering herself.

"We have to go," she said softly.

"What about River? Don't she want to say goodbye?" he asked.

"We already did."

He nodded. "I guess."

She smiled for him and added, "Be good."

"Hell, Frey, when was I ever that?"

It made her laugh as she left Serenity.

"This ain't right," Kaylee said, pushing past her husband and running up towards her own domain, her sanctuary.

"Kaylee …" he called after her, hurrying to catch her up.

Mal watched from the top catwalk as his family walked out to the waiting hover, feeling like part of him was being ripped away. A Reaver couldn't have done it better. As he heard the vehicle drive off, he descended the stairs.

"Tell me they're coming back soon," Hank whispered to Zoe, his mouth barely moving as he heard Mal's footsteps ring through the superstructure.

"Wish I could," she said just as quietly, then turned to her captain, her face expressionless.

"We ready to go?" Mal asked, feeling her accusing him silently.

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Want to be back 'fore dark."

Jayne stepped out of the shuttle, his footsteps surprisingly light on the metal of the catwalk. "Best be heading out, then," he said, joining them on the bay floor.

"You planning on starting a war?" Mal asked, surveying all the weapons massed about his ex-mercenary.

"Maybe."

"Good. And it's time." He strode out into the light, Jayne following.

"Lock her up behind us," Zoe said to Hank, settling her own gun a little more comfortably.

"You expecting trouble?"

"Always pays to be prepared." She leaned a little closer. "And I'm not convinced it was Road Runner that was the target. What if it was us, and they try again?"

Hank swallowed. "I'll get a rifle, tell River to be prepared."

"That's the idea." Zoe nodded and hurried after her captain.

"Are they always this … intense?" Becca asked from where she was seated on one of the crates. She was gazing out into the docks, her lips twisted slightly.

"They're working." Hank thumped his hand down on the button to close the ramp. "I'm surprised you didn't want to go with them," he added as the view of Eavesdown was cut off.

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Now why would you think that?"

"In fact, I'm surprised Mal ain't thrown you off already."

She smiled. "Maybe he likes my company."

"Nope. Pretty sure it ain't that."

"Then maybe I'm just curious. Maybe I want to see how this ends before I leave you."

"You know what curiosity did to the cat."

"It may have escaped your attention, but I'm not a cat." She turned on her heel and sashayed away, her long blonde hair flowing behind her.

"Nope, I think I was right the first time," Hank muttered, heading for the armoury.

Becca paused outside the infirmary, where Bethie stood at the bottom of the stairs, staring at her. "Do you have something you want to say to me?"

"I don't like you," Bethie said, her face pink.

"Not sure I care," Becca admitted.

"You made them leave." The little girl had her fists pressed into her hips, her entire body almost vibrating with anger. "You made them go."

Becca leaned down until their eyes were on a level. "I didn't make anyone do anything, sweetie. Not a gorram thing." She tousled Bethie's hair before straightening up and walking towards the guest quarters, laughing to herself.


	12. Chapter 12

Mal, Jayne and Zoe walked through the busy docks without saying a word, although the latter two exchanged glances every now and then, even as they scanned the crowds for signs of trouble. There certainly seemed to be a lot of Alliance around, their purple armour shining in the sunlight. As they reached Badger's den, and after the eleventh pair of armed soldiers they'd passed, Jayne leaned in.

"You think there's something going here we don't know about?" he whispered.

"Hank checked the posted alerts," Zoe replied quietly. "Nothing on 'em."

"It's the rumours," Mal said unexpectedly, ducking in between a stack of containers. "Another war brewing. They're just keeping an eye on things, make sure it don't happen here."

"Do you think it's likely to, sir?"

"Wouldn't like to say."

"Only you and Burt were talking close before Road Runner disengaged."

Mal didn't respond, just turned into Badger's office and strode to the desk, lifting the little man out of his chair and pinning him to the wall. "Afternoon," he said, almost cheerily.

Three men erupted from the other room, but Jayne stonewalled one, kicked another in the crotch and held his gun on the third. Zoe already had the man who was supposed to be on guard at the front down on the ground, the heel of her boot in his throat, her Mare's Leg cocked and ready in his face.

Badger tried to swallow but found he couldn't do it for Mal's hand wrapped around his neck, his pistol thrust under his chin. He squawked a little.

Mal released the pressure somewhat, allowing the weasel at least to breathe. "You and me are gonna have a talk, Badger."

"Ya think?" The little man sneered, his voice strained. "This ain't the first time you've blown in and laid 'ands on me in my own gaffe, and I don't like it."

"Sorry about that."

"You'd be sorrier if those _bu zhong yong_ bits of shit'd do their jobs proper." He glared at the remnants of his security.

"Now, now, that ain't the way to be talking about the people as work for you," Mal chided, almost appearing to be in good humour. "They might get pissed. Might decide to do you a whole lot of damage. Particularly if they've been blown up." Oh, definitely only appearing to be.

Badger could see, from close perusal, that Mal's eyes were chips of blue ice, no matter how he sounded. "Blown up?" he squeaked.

"Mmn. And good friends of mine, too."

"You mean Road Runner?"

Mal stared into Badger's face, looking past the scrappy beard, the thinning hair, the greasy suit, and into the man's soul. Slowly, his other hand still holding his gun, he let Badger slide down the wall until his feet were on the floor. "Yeah, Road Runner."

"She's gone?"

"Exploded. In about a million pieces, if'n you wanna go check."

"And my cargo?"

Mal's finger tightened on the trigger, but he forced himself to relax. "Part of those million pieces, Badger."

"_Cao_."

"I take it you didn't have a hand in blowing her up?"

Badger managed to look innocent, something of a feat for him. "Why'd I do that? Lost me good coin, that did."

"Lost my friends."

"That too." His eyes flickered from Mal to Jayne to Zoe and back again. "Look, if you ain't gonna shoot me, can I sit down?"

"I don't know. I haven't decided."

"Look, if somethin' happened to Wyatt and the Runner, it ain't nothing to do with me. 'E was a good bloke, did 'is job and didn't ask too many questions. 'Sides, I don't wanna cross Kendrick neither."

Mal leaned in closer, his hand on Badger's chest pressing just a little harder. "Which brings me to my second question. Who knew, Badger? Who knew the cargo was for Kendrick?"

"No-one."

"The bomb was in the cargo. Cargo I've had sitting in my hold nigh on two weeks, a full seven days longer'n planned. We'd just transferred it. So, since I doubt someone'd go to all the trouble of rendering me into my constituent particles only they miscalculated and got Wyatt instead, I'm thinking it wasn't meant for either of us."

Badger went pale under his layer of grime. "Kendrick."

"Now you're getting it." He smiled coldly. "Not a man I'd cross willingly."

"Gawd, no," Badger agreed fervently.

"So, who else knew?"

"Look, a'course there were some knew. The people 'e ordered from, for a start. But no-one from my side, saves me, you and Wyatt. And I didn't tell no-one."

Mal sighed and shook his head. "I know it wasn't Burt or me. So, Badger, that kinda leaves you, since I don't believe in coincidences. So why don't you tell me what you're not saying?" The sound of the safety on his gun being clicked off was very loud.

Badger swallowed quickly. "Well, since you put it like that … there might be somethin' else," he began, somewhat hesitantly.

"And I'm thinking I should've shot you anyway."

"Now, Mal, I'm givin' you information free and gratis now, ain't I?"

"Go on then."

"Someone was pretty keen on me makin' sure you was the one 'ad the job."

"Kendrick's goods?"

"Yeah."

"Who?"

"I don't know." He held up his hands when he saw Mal about to argue. "God's honest truth. It came through an intermediary, from someone else, and I don't know who pushed it first. Just came to me that I'd be compensated if I made sure it was you did the job."

Mal studied him some more. "And the delay? Was that arranged too?"

Badger squirmed a little. "Well …"

"The truth, now."

"Kinda. Kendrick was never gonna be 'ere to deliver to that early. Using the Runner was always part of the plan, but it was only s'posed be a coupla days, not a week." He grimaced. "I didn't know I was gonna 'ave cashflow problems, did I? You were supposed to hand over the goods to me, I'd get Wyatt to take 'em out."

"But you were always gonna offer us the Claymore job."

"That was part of it, yeah. And I was supposed to make it worth your while to take it. Not that that'd be 'ard, considering the sorry state you're usually in. But Kendrick had engine trouble, you were uppity, and the handover got delayed."

Mal moved back until he could perch on the edge of the desk, although his gun didn't waver. "But Serenity's involvement wasn't by chance."

Badger adjusted his disreputable jacket and picked up his hat, which had fallen to the floor in the first rush. "Not a bit." He shrugged as he placed it back on his head, feeling more himself wearing it. "Sorry." He couldn't have sounded less sincere.

Mal ignored him, and seemed to be speaking more to himself than the others. "So the bomb was meant for Kendrick, but the delay in handing over the cargo meant Road Runner went up instead."

"Looks like." The little man sat down at his desk, twisting back and forwards a little. "And speakin' o' which, you got my other piece?"

Mal looked down at him, his eyebrows raised. "The box?"

"Yeah. Did you get it?"

There was a pause while Mal contemplated him like a bug under a microscope, then he said, "Zoe."

"Sir." She holstered her Mare's Leg and slid the bag off her shoulder. The man under her foot tried to get up, but she pushed him back. "Stay," she ordered, pressing just a little harder on his windpipe.

The gunman considered his options and decided discretion was the better part of still being able to breathe.

Badger was disgusted. "Can't get men like I used ta, you know?" he said to Mal.

"I feel for you." Mal nodded to Zoe, who tossed him the sack, and Badger winced visibly.

"Hey, be careful!"

"Since you haven't paid me for this yet, it's still mine," Mal pointed out, removing the wooden box from inside. The light hit the angel, making it seem to stand out. "So what's inside?" He turned it so he could see the edges.

"I don't know!" Badger was getting worried. "And I don't wanna know. I'm just gonna deliver it to –" He stopped, jamming his mouth shut.

"To Kendrick," Mal supplied.

"I didn't say that."

"Nope. But since it's all linked, I'd bet a fair amount of coin this is for him too." He tickled Badger under the chin with the muzzle of his gun. "Is it?"

"Gorram it, you ain't never gonna get work from me again!" Badger spat the words out.

"Tell me where Kendrick is, and this will all go away." Mal leaned forward. "And you know I'm truthful."

"Yeah, but you're a pain in the _pi gu_."

"That too."

Suddenly Badger collapsed back in his chair. "Yeah. It's for Kendrick. He's landing out in the mountains, and I was gonna take it to him, get paid."

"So what's inside?"

"I said, I don't know!" He sighed heavily. "Whatever it is, it's important. Kendrick didn't want it delivered with the goods in the normal way. Prob'ly didn't trust anyone but me."

"You?" Jayne scoffed.

"Yeah, me. I'm a respectable businessman." Badger pulled on his lapels, the legs of the small pink flamingo brooch trembling.

"Coordinates." Mal thrust the box back in the bag.

"Hey, no, wait –"

"Where's Kendrick?"

"If you think I'm gonna –"

"I think you are."

"Aw, hell, Mal, why don't ya let me cut on him a while?" Jayne offered. "I'd do it good. You know that."

For a long moment, thick with the imminent possibility of indescribable pain for Badger, Mal seriously seemed to be considering it, but then he shook his head. "Nah. I think he's gonna be sensible. Ain't you?"

Badger glared at him, at the almost pleasant look on his face, at the cold fire in his blue eyes, at the gun still out of its holster, held gently against one thigh … and gave in. "You tell anyone I gave you this and I'll see to it you never work in this sector again," he said, pulling a sheet of paper from the drawer in his desk and scrawling on it with an antique pen.

Mal flicked it out from under his hand as soon as he stopped writing. "Yes, but just think. You do that and you'd miss me. And who knows, maybe the next time I get set up, it'll actually work."

"Nah," Badger said morosely. "I just ain't that lucky."

---

"So?" Hank was waiting in the cargo bay as they walked back inside, his gunbelt around his hips, the rifle ready in his hands.

"Got it," Mal said, striding straight past him and heading up the stairs.

"Got what?" Hank watched as his captain disappeared through the top doorway, then turned to Zoe. "Got what?"

"Kendrick's location," his wife said. "Well, where he'll be tomorrow, anyway."

"And that's good … how?"

"It's what we went for."

"I know that, but I'm still trying to see the positives in all this."

"I don't think there are any."

"Then why –"

Zoe stopped him with a hand on his lips. "The Captain knows what he's doing."

"Yeah?" Jayne said, closing the airlock door behind them. "Ain't had too much evidence of that so far."

"We have to trust him."

"Long as it don't get us killed." He stomped up the stairs and disappeared into the darkness of shuttle two.

"He's right," Hank said softly. "This could end really badly."

"I know." Zoe slipped her arm around his waist. "But like I said, we have to trust him."

"But what if –"

"Then trust _me_."

He looked into her beautiful face, into those dark eyes he just wanted to get lost in sometimes, and found himself nodding slightly. "Trust you, then," he agreed, pulling her closer so he could kiss her lips.

Becca watched from the common area, feeling her stomach rolling a little at the exhibition going on in front of her, but there was a smile tugging at her lips.

---

Mal unbuckled his gunbelt from around his hips and hung it on its hook, then glanced around his bunk. She hadn't taken much, just enough for a couple of nights for her and the children, but it already felt as if it was empty. The pictures on the walls, her towel on the rail, even the toy pistol Jayne had bought Ethan … they were still there, but he didn't see any of it, just bare metal and stripped shelves.

He could remember all the times she'd been gone, how he'd craved for her to come back, to light that damn incense and sit naked on the floor, mumbling those same words over and over, and making his ship smell like a cheap bordello. Only right now he'd give anything to see her tattoo burning, to watch the smoke twist around her, its shadowy fingers touching every inch of her skin …

"It's the hidden truths that hurt," River said quietly.

"Albatross?" He looked up, found her hanging upside down through the hatch. "What was that?"

"So many secrets."

Mal sighed. River hadn't had a bad day in months, not since Caleb was born, but this sounded too much like the old version to be comfortable. He took a step towards her. "Can you be a little more specific, _xiao nu_? 'Cause the truth is, I don't know if I can carry this out."

The young woman twisted somehow, her legs dropping behind her until she let go of her hands and stood up. "Have to. Have to make this end."

"River, what Frey said, what I did … it's not what you think."

"I know. And it's not you."

"Then who?"

She took his hand and pulled him to sit down next to her on the bed. "I have a tale to tell, a dream that's been plaguing me for several nights," she began. "And now I've worked it out. Once upon a time …"

---

"I want to come," Zoe said, watching Mal prepare the shuttle for launch the next morning.

"Nope. You're staying put. I'm not taking anyone with me to get killed."

"But you're willing to go and get yourself dead."

"Not planning on it." He flicked the switches above his head and the small engine hummed into life.

"Then let one of us come with you. If you don't want me, take Jayne. Hell, take Hank, and he ain't no more good in a gunfight than an ice-planet in a furnace."

He glanced up at her, smiling slightly. "That's your husband you're talking about, Zoe."

"I know. It's still true."

"Nothing's gonna happen to me. I just intend to have a quiet word with Kendrick, find out who his enemies are, and come home. That's it."

Zoe crossed her arms. "That's it."

"Exactly." He half-turned in his seat. "I don't intend on getting shot, knifed, gassed, burned or any of the other fun ways there are to die. And I ain't putting anyone else in the way of not getting shot, gassed or burned."

"You missed out knifed."

"Well, that goes double." He sighed. "Zo, I need you here. Keeping an eye on things. Making sure no-one does anything stupid."

She raised an eyebrow. "Sir?"

"Okay, okay. No-one _else_ does anything stupid. But I gotta do this. Lay the ghosts."

"If you get shot, gassed or burned –"

"Or knifed. Don't forget knifed."

"Or knifed … don't come running to me to make it better."

"I won't." He pointed towards the shuttle doorway. "Time for you to leave."

She glared at him, and for a moment he wondered why he didn't burst into flames, then she nodded. "Come back," she said softly.

"I will."

Turning on her heel, she walked out without a backward glance, closing the door firmly behind her.

Mal twisted his seat back to the front and lifted down the comlink. "Hank, you there?"

"_And where else would I be?"_ came his pilot's disembodied voice.

"Ready for separation."

"_Zoe didn't talk you out of it then?"_

"Nope."

"_Well, you get yourself hurt don't you –"_

"Come crying to you, yeah, I got the message."

Hank's grumpiness seemed to flow out of the speaker. _ "I'm sure you did."_

Mal input a certain sequence and the daylight grew as the shuttle moved away from the body of the Firefly. "Disengaging in three … two … one …" He felt the engines surge and the horizon tilted crazily in the window as the small vehicle lifted away.

"_You don't get any better at that," _Hank commented.

"Shut up or I'll come back and haunt you."

"_Shutting up_." The link went dead.

Mal hung up the handset and turned the shuttle towards the mountains sitting like a smudge of blue along the horizon. "You might as well come out," he said conversationally. "Unless you're planning to stay there 'til I get back."

There was movement behind a small stack of crates and Becca stood up, straightening the gunbelt around her waist. "How long did you know I was there?" she asked.

"Since you snuck on board while I was talking to Zoe." He adjusted their attitude slightly, but didn't turn.

"And you didn't tell her?"

"Would it have done any good?"

"She's right, you know," Becca said, moving forward through the body of the shuttle to the tiny bridge. "You need someone at your back."

"And you think that should be you?"

"As good as any."

"And the fact that you hate Kendrick doesn't figure into the equation even a little bit."

"It was our home, Mal. Of course I hate him."

He finally looked at her, noting her long blonde hair had been caught back in a neat plait. "You try and kill him, I'll drop you."

She smiled softly. "Always figured you would, Mal."

"Yeah, well …" He gazed back outside. "Be a little while, so you might as well make yourself comfy."

"Aye aye, captain," she said, her tone only gently mocking as she sat down on the long bench, stretching her legs out in front of her.


	13. Chapter 13

Mal flew the shuttle in silence, obeying Persephone's sky laws and skirting the residential district by a good ten miles. It doubled the time, but at least he wasn't challenged. The way he was feeling he'd probably say something he'd regret and be blasted out of the firmament. Once free of the city limits, though, he headed straight for the co-ordinates Badger had given him, flying low and fast, occupying himself with wondering how he could ever have been attracted to Becca.

She was pretty, that was for sure, although the years since he'd last seen her had hardened her somewhat, taken the gild off her shine, tarnished that prettiness. Truth was, though, his Freya just got more beautiful, but he could see time hadn't left Becca unmarked.

As they approached their landing area, he glanced back into the body of the shuttle. He could see she was dozing, her chin dropped to her chest. She'd always been like that, he remembered. Even back in the disbursement camps, when there was so much noise he thought he'd never sleep again, she'd always been able to get some shuteye. Nothing seemed to phase that woman.

He banked sharply, bringing the small vehicle in to touch down, and allowed a slight smile of satisfaction to lift his lips as he heard a yelp from behind him. Shame, but it appeared the unexpected manoeuvre had apparently deposited Becca onto the floor.

As the shuttle settled and he shut down the engines, she leaned over him, rubbing her rear end.

"Did you have to do that?" she asked peevishly.

"Do what?" He got to his feet and pushed past her, picking up a small back pack on the way.

She scowled at him. "That innocent look didn't work before, Mal. I can't say it's improved, either."

"Don't know what you're talking about." He slid the door open, tasting dust from where the engine had kicked it up.

She slid up behind him and peered out. "So where's Kendrick's ship?"

"Half an hour's walk."

She glared at him. "What? Why didn't you land closer?"

He explained patiently. "Because according to Badger, Kendrick's paranoid, and his ship could wipe us out if we even looked at it funny. Better I go in on foot. Less likely to be perceived as a threat."

"_You're_ going in on foot."

He sketched a smile. "Yeah. You're staying with the shuttle."

She stepped in front of him. "No way."

"Becca, I don't trust you. You're crazy enough to do something really stupid, like try and kill Kendrick, and I can't be having that. I've got questions I want answered, and it's usually better if the person on the receiving end of those questions is actually alive to do it." He added quickly, "And in case you were thinking, I've locked out the controls so you can't fly into his ship."

"I won't kill him."

"Besides," Mal went on as if he hadn't heard, "I wanna get paid." He hefted the back pack. "And again, that's better if he's not bleeding."

"I said I won't kill him."

"I don't believe you."

"Then why did you let me come along?" Becca folded her arms. "You could have let Zoe know I was there. She'd have manhandled me off, and taken delight in doing so."

"I don't know. Maybe I felt I wanted you where I could keep an eye on you."

"Don't you trust me?"

"Not even as far as I could throw you."

"That's not nice, Mal."

"Being truthful, Becca."

She stepped closer to him, letting him feel her warmth. "Look, I promise. I won't try and kill Kendrick. And you know I'm right – you can't go in there alone."

"Becca –"

"And I'm good in a fight, you've always known that. I'll make sure you come out again in one piece." She tapped her hip. "And I've got a gun."

"Yeah, where did you get that? Not one of Jayne's, I hope."

"The armoury."

"You picked the lock?"

"It wasn't that hard." She put her hand on his arm. "Mal. Be reasonable. Let me protect you."

He looked down at her, radiating honesty, and exhaled heavily. "Come on, then. You look like you could do with some fresh air."

She grinned, showing the girl she had once been, and jumped through the door, landing lightly on her feet.

---

"Are ya sure?" Kaylee asked, her arms wrapped around her body, feeling chilled even though the temperature was normal.

"She's not on board," Hank confirmed.

"You think she was on the shuttle?"

Zoe nodded curtly, just a single movement of her head. "I do."

"Shouldn't we warn the Captain? Let him know?" Simon suggested.

"He knows," River said thoughtfully, watching her feet as she sat on the top catwalk.

"Is he worried?" Hank asked.

"No. Not that I can tell." Two narrow lines appeared between her eyebrows. "I think he's just …"

"What?" Kaylee hurried halfway up the stairs, holding tightly to the support. "River, what?"

"Enjoying himself."

The others looked at each other.

---

"Didn't you ever go hiking in the Wraith Mountains?" Mal asked, waiting yet again for Becca to catch up. The path they were taking was uphill, a fairly steep gradient amongst large rocks and scrubby trees, and she seemed to be finding it hard going.

"No," she said shortly, sitting down on a fallen trunk and removing her boot. They were an ancient pair of Kaylee's, donated because the leather had got too thin to be much in the way of protection. Mal had insisted on buying her a new pair after the unfortunate incident with … well, he couldn't actually remember the name of the part that had fallen on her foot, but he remembered all too clearly the fact that she hadn't been able to walk at all for more than a week.

"Problems?"

"Yes." Becca shook the offending footwear, and several pieces of gravel fell out. Peering inside she asked, "How come you don't get stones in your boots?"

"Practice. When I was a kid, Ms Gingrich always used to take us hiking before the start of the long summer break. Just for a few days, up in the Wraiths." He leaned against a stubby tree, its branches stripped and empty. "She'd hire a shuttle, take us older kids out there, teach us all about the wildlife'n stuff."

"Sounds peachy." She fished in the depths, pulling out another piece of grit and flicking it away.

"It was. Long days, short nights, and lots of …" He unfocused for a moment, just letting the memory play in his mind. Then he stood straight. "Come on. We're nearly there."

She glared. "Fine. You go on ahead. _I'm_ going to rest for a minute. As long as that's okay with Sergeant Reynolds?"

"Not been a sergeant for a long time, Becca," he admonished gently.

"I guess not." She sat back, her boot hanging from her fingers, not looking at him. "We used to go to the beach-house for the summer, when I came back from school," she added. "Father would take time off and we'd all go swimming together."

"All?"

"Mother, father, Juliet and me."

"Jul …" He paused. He'd forgotten. "Your sister."

"Baby sister. You think your kids are beautiful? Forget it. Jules was _jiao mei_. And when she laughed …"

"I remember."

She glanced sharply at him. "Do you?"

"What you told me. I remember what you told me."

She went back to studying the dirt. "Ten years younger than me, and everyone loved her. Everyone. She made the world seem … right."

"I'm sorry." He took a deep breath. "Why didn't they leave?" he asked finally. "Your folks. Your Pa obviously had the money to go, so why didn't they?"

"You mean before that man you're going to see burned them?" She gave a brittle laugh. "My father was like you. Stubborn. He believed he could talk to the Alliance, get them to leave Shadow alone. He couldn't see he was just laying them open to have an example made of them. By the time he saw the truth, they'd got the whole planet locked down and they couldn't." She tugged on her boot and stood up. "Well? Are we going to stand around and chat about the good old days, or are we going to see that _hwoon dahn_?"

Mal studied her a moment, saw the tightness of the skin around her eyes, and said, "Okay." He turned and hitched the back pack higher onto his shoulder, heading up the track.

"You know, you really should have killed him when you had the chance."

"I told you why I didn't."

"Couple of bullets - pop, pop - and it would all be over."

"I don't murder people."

She jeered. "Are you telling me the great Malcolm Reynolds, hero of Serenity Valley, hasn't killed anyone since?"

He stopped so she ran into him. "I didn't say that. I don't believe there's a person out here can say that, not no more. And I ain't a hero."

"No. A hero would have avenged his people." Scorn dripped from every word.

He started walking again. "See, Becca, you and me, we got different ideas what a hero really is."

"I suppose we do." She was silent for maybe a minute, then asked, "How much further?"

"Just over the next ridge. There's a dip in the terrain, then a plateau. Kendrick's there. We'll be able to see him from the top." He pointed about a hundred yards further on.

"So not far."

"No."

"Good."

Something in her tone made him stop, face her. His eyes widened just a little. "What are you doing?"

She clicked the safety off her gun, her aim steady. "I really wish it didn't have to be like this, Mal."

He could see directly down the barrel, could visualise the bullet waiting to burst forth. "It don't have to be, Becca," he said quietly, like he did to River when she was having a bad day. It didn't work.

"You could have done the right thing all those years ago, or done it now. But you're not going to. Too damn honourable." She made the last word sound like an insult.

"So this was all to get to Kendrick?"

"And to get the package." She nodded towards the bag on his shoulder. "Someone's willing to pay a lot of coin for it. Kendrick's a bonus. _My_ bonus. And talking of which … drop it."

"What?"

"The back pack. I'll be taking it now." She lifted the gun, just a micron. "Do it."

Mal let the strap fall from his shoulder, catching it in his hand. Not taking his eyes off her for a moment, he put the bag carefully onto the ground, straightening up. "Becca -"

"Step back."

This time he didn't argue, but took four paces away. "You don't have to do this." He gestured. "Let's just deliver this, get our money, and you can -"

"Enough talking." She pulled the trigger twice and Mal staggered, hit in the chest and falling into the dust as the sound reverberated through the trees. Blood blossomed through his shirt, soaking it quickly as he lay staring at the sky.

Snatching up the bag she went to move forward, check he was dead, deliver the coup de grace if he wasn't, but suddenly she heard a crashing a little further down the hill.

"Mal? Mal!"

Dammit, it was that ape! She quickly ran up the path and into the trees, taking care not to break twigs or disturb leaves. Not that she needed to bother. As she peered out between two rocks she saw the big ox of a man break through the undergrowth, and he only had eyes for his captain.

"Mal!" Jayne went down onto his knees, feeling his neck for a pulse, then leaning over him, trying to hear if he was breathing. He swore violently, and pulled a comlink from his pocket. "Zoe!"

"_Yeah?"_

"Better get the doc up here now. Mal's shot."

"_Alive?"_ Her voice was faint over the link, but it filled the clearing.

"I don't think so."

Becca smiled tightly and moved silently off.

---

River tried to calm her breathing. The sudden pain had stolen it, taken it and hidden it away amongst other, more terrible things. But it crept back, like a dog who had been beaten but had no place else to go.

"River?" Zoe asked. "It true?"

The young woman didn't answer.

---

Kendrick's ship was right where Mal said it would be, a bright and shiny Zephora, resting on the ground, her stubby legs not seeming stout enough to balance such a large ship. Becca studied it carefully, noting the space where the shuttle should be. Perhaps some of the crew were off getting supplies – that made things easier if it was the case. She didn't mind killing crew or bystanders if it came down to it, but she was only getting paid for Kendrick. Otherwise she'd have waited and used the bomb in the cargo for now instead of blowing up Road Runner. Besides, she wanted him to see the bullet that was going to end him. Of course, that would be after the bullets that would smash into various other portions of his body first.

The main airlock seemed to be open, though. Probably taking advantage and flushing the ship out with free oxygen while they were dirtside. But no-one on guard. Somewhat surprising. Still, if Kendrick were truly as paranoid as they said, he probably only trusted a handful of men, and their landing point was well off the beaten track. She smiled. Never mind. Easier for her.

Slipping across the open space, every sense was on alert for someone noticing her, challenging her, attacking maybe, but there was no-one. For once she was glad of the loose clothes she was wearing: they broke up the line of her body, and the colours made her blend in much more successfully.

At the airlock she halted, listening carefully, and somewhere on the edge of her hearing she could detect voices, laughter, but it was muted, distant, and she slid inside, making sure the back pack was secure. Whereas she could always bluff her way on board, saying she was making Badger's delivery, she really wanted to be able to get away without anyone seeing her, and that meant being sensible.

It didn't take long to realise the upper two levels were Kendrick's – the thick carpet and the wallpaper and pictures on the bulkheads was a pretty good indication. There were a number of rooms off this long corridor, though, and another floor above …

Someone was coming. She ducked inside an open doorway, hiding in the shadows inside. It was a young man, dressed in dark pants, white shirt and dark waistcoat with a monogram on the breast. Some kind of uniform, probably. She waited until he had gone past, then stepped silently up behind him, pressing her gun into his neck, directly under his right ear.

He stopped, his eyes widening.

"Where's Kendrick?" she hissed, her breath making his hair move.

"What?"

She pressed the gun harder against his neck, bruising it. "Kendrick. Where is he?"

"D … down there." He pointed, his hand trembling. "Last door."

"Thanks." She brought the barrel down on his head, perhaps harder than was necessary, but now she could taste revenge on her tongue, and it made her violent.

The young man collapsed, bleeding slightly onto the dark red carpet, and she shrugged. No-one was even going to notice that. Still, she didn't want anyone raising the alarm. She dragged him into the room, cursing under her breath because he was heavier than he looked, and locked him in. Checking up and down the corridor to make sure no-one had heard, she hurried to the doorway he'd indicated, her footsteps swallowed by the deep pile beneath her borrowed boots.

She dropped her fingers to the handle, feeling it give easily, and slipped inside.

It was like the member's room at a gentleman's club. Dark green walls, heavy oak furniture upholstered in green leather, shuttered bookcases, and a large screen showing a recorded view across a valley, blue mountains in the distance and birds sweeping overhead.

There was also a chair, facing away from her, swivelling slightly on its base as the occupant tapped into a computer panel. She aimed her gun.

"Kendrick."

The tapping stopped.

"My name's Rebecca Morgan. Not that it'll mean anything to you, but I just wanted you to know the name of the person who's about to kill you. Turn around." There was no movement. "Turn around!"

"Mal told me you talked too much," Freya said, swinging the chair to face Becca, her own weapon trained on the other woman's heart.

"Freya?" Becca couldn't believe her eyes.

The other woman looked at her, scorn and disgust in equal measure in her eyes. "Surprise."

"Where is he? Where's Kendrick?"

Freya stood up slowly, her pistol not wavering. "He's around."

"How did you get here?" Becca demanded. "You weren't even on board when Mal got this location from Badger."

"I was reminded, just a few days ago, that a friend of mine has other friends, who know people. It didn't take much for my friend to find out, talk to Kendrick." _Or to have Mal tell me_, she added mentally. "Even to persuade him to let me see you first. Welcome you, you might say."

Becca glared at Freya, her eyes full of fire and resentment. "Wouldn't be too cocky." A cruel smile twisted her lips. "I regret to inform you … isn't that how the official wording goes? I regret to inform you … that your dear husband is even now lying bleeding his life out on the track aways."

Freya's finger tightened on the trigger but she held back. "Did you shoot him?"

"As much as it pains me to say … yes. My bullets." She watched the other woman carefully, waiting for any indication that she was about to fire, but there was nothing, and Becca began to get restless. "Don't you get it? Mal's dead!"

"Not quite, darlin'."

Whatever she had expected Freya to do, be it fall to the floor screaming and wailing and tearing out her hair, was nothing compared to the look on Becca's face as she span on her heel to see an apparition standing in the doorway, his shirt dusty and blood soaked.


	14. Chapter 14

"_Zhang fu_, are you okay?" Freya asked, somewhat anxiously given the state of Mal's clothing.

"I'm shiny, _ai ren_. Armour worked a treat." He tapped it lightly. "So, d'you think Simon can get the blood out and fix the bullet holes?" he asked, looking down at his chest. "He's real good at that."

"I've never really cared for that shirt as much as the others." She wrinkled her nose a little. "It makes you look too … thin."

"Then I won't worry." He smiled at her, and the warmth he felt from the one he received in return far outreached the pain above his ribs. "The kids?"

"Safe with Dillon. I think Callum's teaching Ethan how to fly the hover."

"Good skill to have."

Becca was staring, open-mouthed, then gathered herself enough to spit, "You … you're alive?"

He turned his cobalt glare onto her. "Looks that way."

"But I shot you."

"Believe me, I'm well aware of that. Knocked all the air out of me," he said fervently, easing the armour away from his skin a little, and grimacing as it rubbed on the sore spots. "You know, they don't tell you getting a couple of bullets at point blank in one of these hurts almost as much as the real thing." He looked thoughtful. "You think I could get the manufacturers to put a warning on 'em, or something?"

"So this was a set-up?" Becca's voice was almost accusatory, ignoring his banter.

"Pretty much." He almost looked sad. "I just wanted to see how far you'd go. Guess now I know." He nodded towards the gun still in her hand. "And you'd better put that away 'fore Frey takes it into her mind to let her jealousy get loose again and shoot you."

Becca didn't move for a moment, but the expression in his eyes made her realise he wasn't joking. Carefully, making no sharp movements, she flicked the safety back on and slid the gun into her holster. Her holster. Only it wasn't. And he'd made a joke about hoping it wasn't Jayne's … Something clicked, and she cursed herself for being so blind. "Wait a minute. I saw Jayne … how did he –"

"He was in the shuttle too. He's just better at hiding than you." Mal hitched his thumbs into his gunbelt and almost laughed at the look on her face. "What, you really thought I was gonna walk in here alone?"

"You did before."

"I've changed."

"You sure as hell've become more devious."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"So where is he?"

"Outside. Making sure we ain't disturbed."

There was movement behind Freya, and Mal's hand was very close to his gun, but it was only Kendrick, stepping through the door to sit down in his own seat.

"What part of stay out of this didn't you understand?" Freya asked, not looking at him but the exasperation came through loud and clear.

"I need to see her, this woman who wants to kill me so badly." He studied Becca. "Somehow I thought she'd be bigger."

Mal glanced at Kendrick. "Glad to see you're still alive," he said quietly. "Although you've altered somewhat."

Kendrick touched his face. The skin above his left eye drooped, as did that on his cheek below, as if he had been made of wax and left too close to the fire. "A reminder of another assassination attempt. That one nearly succeeded." He smiled a little - at least, the right hand side of his mouth did. "I seem to have a lot of enemies."

"Seems like you do."

"And I'm somewhat curious to find out which one of the many hired you, Miss Morgan."

Becca shrugged. "Don't know. All I got was a message via the Cortex, and a substantial sum in my private account."

"How substantial?"

"Very. And as much again to be deposited when you were dead."

"I'm glad to know I'm worth so much."

"Not to me," she said with contempt. "I'd have done it for nothing." Becca turned her gaze onto Mal. "When did you know?"

"Near enough when you came on board. I don't believe in coincidences, and you being on Claymore at just that time, meeting up with Frey … Then when Road Runner went up, and Kaylee found out about the device not having a timer …"

"She didn't say."

"She did to me."

"And this?"

"Contrary to what appears to be the current popular opinion, I ain't stupid, Becca. I figured it out." He didn't tell her about River's dream, corroborating everything he'd feared. Or how it seemed more like a lifetime than just half a day before …

"_It was a ship, sitting in the landscape. And inside was the spider, waiting for the flies to come. Only one of them was a rat."_

"_River, you know I ain't feeling too intelligent right now, so can you -"_

"_Kendrick. You. Becca."_

"_Becca?"_

"_Betrayal. Using you to get to him. To kill him."_

"_And the Runner? Wyatt and his crew?"_

"_Press the button. Boom."_

_His jaw tightened. "Becca."_

"_Yes." Her hand tightened on his arm. "But there's more …"_

"And you hated Kendrick," he went on, pushing the memory away. "I always knew that. From the moment you drew me into that little game of yours, back when we were …"

"Engaged. You can say it."

"Don't need to." He felt Freya's eyes on him, and he added, more for her benefit than anyone else, "It was a mistake I wish I'd never made."

"And I made the mistake of going for a body shot." Becca glanced down at the blood spread across his shirt. "Gorram armour."

He nodded. "Blood bags on top. Donated by Jayne."

"I guess the big ape's good for something. But I should've gone for your head."

"You're a pro. Pros rarely go for head shots. Bet my life on that. 'Sides, you might've missed."

"I never miss."

"You did today." He nodded towards Kendrick. "You wanted me to kill him before. That's why you introduced me to your … friends."

"And you chickened out. This man wiped out half of Shadow."

"Yes, he did. And maybe if I hadn't already met Frey I'd've murdered him for it. But you chose the wrong man that time."

"Perhaps I did."

He took a step forward. "Can I just ask a question? Did you care at all for me? Or was it just an act to try and get me to play?"

She shrugged, as if it didn't matter whether she told the truth or not anymore. "I cared. I saw you and thought I'd found a kindred spirit. Taking you to bed was a bonus. And I would've married you, too, if you hadn't -"

"Chickened out."

"Yeah."

"I didn't, Becca. I just came to my senses in time."

"I'd have to dispute that."

"You do this a lot?" Mal felt the adrenalin being to pump. It was going to happen, and soon.

"It's what I do."

"Kill folks?"

"For money. And don't even begin to criticise me, Malcolm Reynolds. Your own reputation isn't exactly lily-white, either."

"No. No it isn't." He shook his head. "But why Road Runner? What did they ever do to you?"

Becca shrugged again. "Nothing. I knew it would make you angry. Angry enough to make Badger tell you where Kendrick was, angry enough to come out here, find out why."

"Angry enough to let you come with me so you could kill me?"

"Not the plan." She blinked. "Well, not totally. Although I'll admit it did occur to me."

"All this for Kendrick, then."

"For what he did to my family."

"You're from Shadow as well?" Kendrick asked, leaning forward in his chair, but everyone ignored him.

Her face was fierce, intense. "They seeded the atmo above the continent, Mal, some kind of chemical. I could never find out what it was. But it filtered down through the air, changing as it went, and by the time it reached the ground it was on fire. Even the _land_ was burning."

Mal tried to swallow, but his mouth was suddenly too dry, remembering seeing the devastation, the total annihilation of his home the last time he'd been back. "You don't know that, Becca."

"I know. I was there."

"You …" He glanced at Freya, who shook her head slightly.

Becca went on, "I was coming home, just a little way out when it happened. I was too high to see what went on down on the ground, but there were waves … all of them begging for help, to stop the flames, to stop the …" She couldn't continue for a moment, just glared at Kendrick. "The voices stopped pretty quickly anyway. Then it was just silence. And the fire died down until we could see the ash, and we knew there was nothing left alive. Skipper turned the boat around and hightailed it out. We all of us vowed, that day, to find the man responsible. And you let him live." Now the glare was all for Mal.

"Did you know?" Mal asked Kendrick, the pad of his palm resting on the hilt of his gun. "What would happen?"

"Yes." Kendrick nodded. "I knew. We all did. God forgive us."

"Well, I won't!" Becca drew her gun, aimed it square at Kendrick's forehead.

The sound of two shots filled the room, echoing from the papered walls.

Jayne burst into the room. "Cap, what …"

"It's okay," Mal said, putting his smoking pistol back into its holster and looking at Freya, who had fired momentarily before he'd drawn. "It's all okay." He went down onto his knees next to Becca, her body slumped against the fine side table. "Isn't it, Becca?" he asked.

She looked up at him, her hand clutched to the wounds in her chest. "Should've let me kill him, Mal. He …" She coughed, pain wracking her as she did so. "He killed so many of us."

"War's long done."

"Don't be so naïve. Think I'm the only one? There's people you'd never believe, Mal. And the fight's going to be even more bloody." She convulsed, trying to take a breath.

"Lie still," he advised. "We'll get a doctor."

"Still lying to me, Mal?" She managed a smile, but it was more like a grimace. "Always did. Said you loved me, didn't. Said you'd kill Kendrick, didn't. Played me now. So many lies, Mal."

"Well, you know what they say, Becca," Mal said softly, brushing her hair from her face.

"Yeah." She contorted slightly as the pain increased beyond reason. "Yeah, I know."

"Old habits …" he started.

"Die … hard," she finished, grinding the words out between clenched teeth before her body went slack and her eyes stared sightlessly at him.

For a long moment Mal didn't move, then with a slow hand he closed her eyes. "There never was a Claymore job, was there?" he asked, still looking at Becca.

"What?" Freya couldn't help it. "Not a -"

"No," Kendrick agreed. "How did you guess?"

"Worked it out." Freya was glaring at him, he could tell, feeling the burning between his shoulder blades. _River, xin gan_, he thought softly as he stood up, faced them_. After you left. _

"_Spider in his web."_ _River's words as she sat next to him. "Waiting for the flies. Only one's a rat and the spider wears brown …"_

"The box was always coming to me," Kendrick said. He glanced down at Becca's body. "She must have heard about it somehow, that you had been contracted to … purloin it."

"Why? If it was always gonna be yours?"

"A test."

Mal shook his head. "Test?"

"To see if you're ready."

"I ain't joining."

"You don't know what it is."

"Like I told Becca, I ain't stupid. The new rebellion. You're one of those calls themselves a New Browncoat."

"And if I am?"

"I ain't."

"You still wear it. Not today, maybe, but you still -"

"Didn't wanna get blood on it, that's all. And it's just a coat."

Kendrick gazed at him from his ruined face. "That I don't believe. We all have to atone, Sergeant."

Mal finally let a little of the anger inside him boil over. "I ain't a sergeant! Why the hell can't all of you get that through your heads?" He leaned on the desk. "I'm just a man, trying to survive out on the raggedy edge, and keep my family safe. If you wanna a war, go ahead, but you'd better be damn sure you can win, 'cause the Alliance will do anything to knock you down, and they won't stop next time until we're all just another heap of ash."

"We believe we can."

"Then you're fools." He stood upright. "I'm too old to be fighting this battle anymore. When I started I was young, idealistic. I ain't no more. All I want now is to see my children grow up."

"We need you, Captain."

"No. You don't. You want the hero of Serenity Valley. Well, he don't exist. Never did." Mal half turned, ready to leave, then went down onto his heels next to Becca's body. For one gut-wrenching moment Freya thought he was going to take a final kiss, but instead he merely unbuckled the gunbelt from around her hips, sliding it out from under her. Picking up the pistol from the floor, he pushed it home firmly before tossing it over his shoulder. He looked up as he got to his feet, and she was surprised to see him smile at her. "I think the others ain't gonna be too worried they don't get their stuff back, do you?"

"No. I don't think they'll mind at all." She felt her lips lift a little.

"Mal, can we go now?" Jayne asked. "I got me some things I need to be doing back on board."

"Reasonable request," Mal responded, picking up the back pack and taking the box from inside. "You owe me for this," he said, laying it on the desk in front of Kendrick.

"I suppose I do." Slowly so as not to invite a bullet, he opened the drawer and pulled out a pouch, tossing it to Mal, who thrust it inside his shirt. "Aren't you going to count it?"

"Nope. And if you were thinking I wasn't gonna take it either, you'd be mistaken. I'm not that honourable. And it'll keep us flying for a while longer."

"Don't … don't you want to know what this is?" Kendrick touched the wooden box on the desk, the angel carving showing deep in the artificial light.

"Nope. Could be Pandora's Box for all I care."

"In a way it is." His eyes narrowed. "It's important, perhaps vitally so. Will you deliver it?"

Mal shook his head. "No. Got me enough things to worry on right now, and all I wanna do is get off this God-forsaken rock and back into the clean black."

"Then I need to know. Why did you protect me?" Kendrick asked, incomprehension on his face. "Why didn't you just tell that young woman where I was and let her kill me? It would have been so easy for you."

"Can't say I rightly know," Mal admitted. "To make amends, maybe. For last time."

"But you spared me then."

"Truth is, I didn't want to. But maybe I wasn't quite the _hwoon dahn_ I thought I was. Maybe not killing you showed that to me, let me see I could be something else, even if there was nothing inside." His face darkened. "And maybe I feel that to leave you alive, to know that guilt I can see inside _you_, every day, every second of every minute of every year … maybe that's a better payback for my home." Mal turned on his heel.

"Then all I can really say, and it's so inadequate, is … thank you."

"Don't need it. And I don't want it. Not from you." He walked out, Freya and Jayne following without a word.

---

Mal opened his shirt, examining the bruises on his chest. Two, directly over his heart. If he hadn't been wearing armour, he'd be dead.

Freya came out of the nursery, sliding the door half closed then pausing, looking back at her children.

"They asleep?" Mal asked, looking at the tension in her back.

"Finally. Jesse was okay, she didn't really understand what was going on. But Ethan …" She gazed at the little boy in his bed, one thumb firmly in his mouth, his other arm wrapped around his knitted alligator. "I had to keep telling him it wasn't real. That we weren't really arguing."

"Well, hopefully where we're going is gonna help. Hank's laid us in a course for Phoros and we're on our way. Figure we're maybe gonna spend a day or two with Kaylee's family."

"Was that the scream I heard a short while ago?"

"Yeah. Deafened me when I told her. But I think she's pleased."

"Be nice to see them again."

"Yeah." He gazed at her tattoo, just visible above her shirt. "You mad at me or something?"

"No."

"Then why won't you look at me?"

She closed the door fully, and turned, finding her husband right in front of her. Her eyes were drawn to the bruises, and she touched them gently. "Oh, Mal."

"It's okay. They'll fade." He touched the cut in her lip. "And I'm sorry," he said tenderly. "I didn't mean to hit you so hard."

"You had to make it look real."

"But I hurt you. I'm so sorry, _xin gan_."

"This? This is nothing." She moved past him and sat down on the bed, her head dropping as she remembered the look on his face as he'd closed Becca's eyes. "You loved her a little."

"A little. A very little." He went down onto his heels in front of her. "You want I should open up all those doors? I will if you do. You can go in, look at everything. Can't say you'll like what you'll find, though. There's things I'm ashamed of, and others I'd never want you to know in case you stopped loving me." He felt his heart miss a beat. "You … haven't, have you?" When she didn't answer or even look at him, the deck of Serenity seemed to open up beneath him, and he knew he was about to be swallowed up into Book's special hell. "Frey?" He put his hand under her chin, about to lift her face to his, and realised tears were falling onto his skin. "Oh, Frey."

"It's okay."

"No, Frey, it's not. I want to be able to explain. I don't want there to be secrets between us."

She looked up at him. "Oh, Mal, I know I have secrets. Things I … I so want to tell you, but I don't know how. The Academy. The war. After, in the camp. I just don't know how."

"I know, _bao bei_. And when you're ready, I'll be here. I'm ready to listen. I love you." He licked suddenly dry lips. "You do love me, don't you? I mean, you didn't answer before, and I -"

He was stopped by her mouth fastening onto his, her arms around his neck, almost frantic in her haste, and he returned it with passion. When she finally drew back she said, "Don't. Don't you ever go thinking I don't love you. I might not like you once in a while, but … Mal, I love you. More than I … more than anything."

His eyes closed for a moment, then he smiled. "Good. That's … good. And I promise, there's no more women in my life. No more fiancées about to turn up and demand I fulfil my promise to them. Nothing like that."

"Children?"

He smiled. "That I can't swear to. None that I know of, is all I can say."

She laughed a little. "I suppose that will have to do."

He slid backwards onto the bed, taking her with him, until they were lying in their usual position, him on his back, her moulded against him, her head on his shoulder, his arm around her. She touched the bruises again, the broken blood vessels darkening his skin somewhat dramatically.

"Arnica."

He lifted his head to look at her. "What?"

"Arnica. My mother used to swear by it. Every time Alex or me got into a fight, or fell down, or just walked into something, she'd get Bridget to anoint us with arnica. It makes the bruises go away quicker."

"That so?" Mal smiled. "Actually, Simon offered me leeches."

She lifted herself onto one elbow so she could look down at him. "Leeches?"

"Mmn. Said if we could stop by one of the swampy moons, he could get himself a supply and use them on me."

"What did you say?"

"You don't wanna know."

"I do. Tell me." She pinched him gently. "You said. No secrets."

Suddenly he rolled her over onto her back, bracing himself above her. "Told him he had a date with the airlock he even came near me with any blood-sucking creatures. Maybe in a few more words."

"Chinese?"

"I think there might've been something of that kind in the threat, yeah."

She smiled, her tears finally dried. "Hope he'll listen. After all, you _are_ captain."

"Damn straight." He lowered himself onto her, his lips against hers, his tongue demanding entrance.

Jayne quietly closed the hatch to the captain's bunk, and strolled along to the bridge. "They're getting groiny," he announced to his wife.

"Good." She smiled at him before turning back to the stars outside.

"They knew, didn't they?" Jayne sat down in the co-pilot's chair. "The ones planned all this. Where we were. What we were doing."

"Yes."

"They know you're on board?"

"Probably. It's difficult to keep things secret sometimes."

"But they ain't told the Feds."

River didn't respond for a moment, and Jayne started to worry, but eventually she said, "No. I don't believe they have. This is all about something else. _Someone_ else."

"Any idea who?"

"Not yet. But it's coming."

"You feel it?"

"Yes."

"Me too." He stared outside for a while. "We gonna be able to handle it?"

She looked at him, her big dark eyes unreadable in this light. "Do you want the truth?"

"Hell, no."

"Then we'll be shiny."

He gave an unexpected grunt of laughter. "You know, I don't think you're lying."

She slipped, like a will o'the wisp, out of her chair and into his lap, wrapping herself around him. "We'll keep our family safe, Jayne."

He held her close. "No matter what?"

"No matter what."

"They gonna be okay?" he asked, half turning in the seat so he could look out of the bridge doorway.

"Yes." River sighed. "He'll show her, and she'll let him, and they'll be better." She leaned into him. "Don't ever leave me, Jayne," she whispered, her breath making his skin warm.

"I won't, moonbrain," he promised, holding her tight. "You're stuck with me. You, me and Caleb. Forever."

"Forever," she echoed, feeling his body wrap around her. "I like that."

---

**Somewhere else, not that far away …**

"Is it intact?"

"Yes." He peered into the wooden box. "The seals haven't been broken."

His companion nodded, putting his device back into his pocket. "Good." He reached inside and withdrew the two glass phials, placing them carefully on the desk. Then, picking up a heavy brass paperweight, he smashed them both, grinding until there was nothing left but liquid and powder.

"And the box?"

"Leave it," he advised, flicking a solitary piece of glass off his dark suit with one blue clad finger. "No-one is going to need it again."

"Do you think they know how close they were?"

"It doesn't matter. All that is important is that they didn't get this sample of AntiPax."

"True." He looked down at the body of Anton Kendrick, slumped in his chair, blood running dark from all his orifices against his pale, damaged skin. It was odd, but there was a calm, almost peaceful look on his face, almost welcoming death. "Have you set the charges?"

"Of course."

"Then it's time to leave."

The two men walked from the room, over the bodies lying in the corridors, and back to their vessel, squatting like a shiny black beetle on the Persephone landscape. After a few minutes it took off, heading away from the planet, and away from the explosion that ripped the Zephora apart, distributing her fragmented remains across the plateau.


End file.
